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Chapter 2

Word Count: 1162    |    Released on: Today at 08:58

Brooklyn apartment, and climbed out onto the rusted fire escape. The cold night

bodyguards kicked the front door off its hinges. Bright fl

the men cursed and stomped back down the stairs. The moment t

d against the glass windows of a private

e, her face as pale as paper. Sweat soaked through her ste

clicking rapidly against the terrazzo floor while the diamond

e double doors, her glov

t the youngest baby girl has congenital heart f

bed the nurse by the collar, h

have! Money is no object! Y

t a sharp, continuous flatline beep. After pushing

ead, carrying a tiny baby girl whose skin was br

ss she's flown back to New York and placed in th

life on the operating table, and then at the two healthy baby

strid was stable, she would tell her the truth

ldbirth and left behind only a critically ill daughter. Two hours later, Bartholomew's medica

the paperwork-two death certificates, a mother and a nameless infant, quietly filed in a foreign hospital

, Kamryn wiped her face, walked back into the ward, an

d. The little gir

her temples into her hair as she hugged the two remaining ba

ide sealed every record behind its name, and no report ever came back to Zurich. She had no idea whethe

the massive glass dome of the arrivals hall at J

he VIP lane in high heels, radiating an aura of cold authority. She was back as Dr. Sunn

ys dressed in custom miniature suits and matching

face. His fingers flew across a black tab

bersecurity system is

, chewed bubble gum and raised a

e sheep on Wall Street are w

reached down to ruffle De

a medical contract this t

under his arm and squee

res to bully you, I'll hack their

a commotion broke out among the waiting crowd. Several bodyguard

sons behind her back and looked to

surrounded by security, his gray-blu

the collar of her trench coat to conceal her face,

n a pink princess dress steadily with one arm, h

shoulder, her dark brown eyes looking around curiously. W

strid dug her fingernails deep into her palm

ugh to have a child. Six years of resentment rushed back at once, the old wound tearing open like it had ne

mother's breathing and followed

er with his elbow a

guy looks loaded. And h

nto Bartholomew, a dangerous

ial recognition program, and ran the

Group popped up on the screen. Daxt

g dad who abandoned

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