Chapter 13
Savannah asked to keep the second crib.
That surprised me.
We stood inside the nursery after the house had been secured. Ruby’s original crib was still in pieces outside. The unopened replacement sat against the wall like an accusation.
“Why?”
Savannah touched her stomach.
“I don’t have one.”
That sentence stopped me.
Of course.
Victor had supplied it as staging.
Logan assumed Ashford would pay for everything once Bianca was gone.
Savannah had spent eight months imagining a future that apparently contained jewelry and status but not the basic object her child needed.
I looked at her.
“You thought this would be your nursery.”
“Yes.”
“You thought Ruby would be gone.”
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.”
No excuses.
Good.
“Do you regret it because the plan failed?”
She flinched.
Fair question.
“I regret that part.”
I waited.
Then she whispered:
“And because I saw Ruby.”
That changed something.
Not forgiveness.
Humanity.
“When Logan threw the crib outside, she started crying.”
Savannah looked ashamed.
“I knew then this wasn’t replacing you.”
Pause.
“It was hurting a baby to hurt you.”
She covered her mouth.
“I still stood there.”
“Yes.”
She cried.
I let her.
Then I looked at the second crib.
“Take it.”
Her eyes widened.
“Bianca—”
“The crib didn’t betray me.”
Silence.
“Your baby didn’t either.”
That broke her.
Good.
Not as punishment.
As distinction.
Adults own adult choices.
Children do not inherit them.
She left with the crib that evening.
Not the necklace.
That stayed with me.
Not Logan.
He no longer had a future to offer her.
And not my forgiveness.
That was not available yet.
Maybe never.
May you like
But her child would not sleep on a floor because adults had been cruel.
I refused to build that kind of victory.
