At four fifteen, I stepped into the corridor to make a phone call.
My supervisor had left a message about Monday's schedule.
I was checking my voicemail when I heard Vanessa's voice behind me.
“Claire.”
I turned.
She stood alone near a row of framed university photographs.
Up close, I could see that the smooth perfection of her expression required effort.
“What do you want, Vanessa?”
She glanced around.
“I've been wondering about those boys.”
My pulse quickened.
“What about them?”
“They're yours?”
“Yes.”
“Both sixteen?”
“Yes.”
She studied my face.
“Daniel doesn't know, does he?”
I felt a cold sensation move through my chest.
“He knows he has twins.”
“Does he?”
“Of course he does.”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“People forget things when they've moved on.”
I stared at her.
“Children aren't things you forget.”
Her expression hardened.
“I didn't come here to argue.”
“Then why are you here?”
