Two days passed. Lucas was regaining strength rapidly. He could sit up and hold a cup. He spent his waking hours reading files Mia had surreptitiously downloaded from Julian's cloud account using the stolen phone. His rage grew with every page.
"He's trying to sell the robotics division," Lucas growled, throwing the phone onto the bed. "I need a secure terminal."
"I'll get it," Mia said. "But I need fresh air."
She left him fuming and walked out into the garden.
The estate was vast. She walked toward the pool house, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the sickroom.
She saw a commotion by the deep end of the Olympic-sized pool.
Three nannies were standing in a circle, looking at their phones and laughing.
A few yards away, a small boy sat on the edge of the pool.
Mia stopped. It was the boy from the photo. Or... no, this boy was older. Four or five. But the back of his neck...
She squinted. He was wearing a high-collared neoprene rash guard that covered his neck completely.
The boy was rocking back and forth. He was staring at the water, mesmerized by the ripples.
"Leo! Get back from there!" one nanny yelled, not looking up from her phone. "Stop being a creep!"
Leo didn't react. He leaned forward. Further. Further.
Gravity took over. He tipped silently into the water.
Splash.
He didn't surface. He didn't thrash. He just sank, like a stone.
The nannies screamed. "Oh god! He fell in!"
"I can't swim!" one yelled.
"Call security!"
Mia kicked off her heels. She didn't think. She sprinted across the lawn.
She dove.
The water was freezing. She opened her eyes, the chlorine stinging.
She saw him. A small bundle of clothes on the bottom of the pool. He was curled in a fetal position, eyes closed, accepting his fate.
Mia grabbed him. She kicked hard, propelling them to the surface.
She broke the water, gasping. She hauled Leo onto the tiles and scrambled out.
He was blue. Silent.
"Call Dr. Hamilton! Now!" Mia screamed at the useless nannies. "Get the medical team!"
She started compressions. Her hands, usually so steady for surgery, were trembling.
One, two, three, four...
"Come on, Leo. Come on."
She tilted his head back, pinched his nose, and breathed into his mouth.
His chest rose. Fell.
Nothing.
"Don't you dare die on me," she growled. Compress. Compress. Compress.
Mia's eyes darted to his neck. She reached for the zipper of his rash guard, desperate to loosen it for air, and perhaps to see the skin underneath.
Before she could pull the zipper down, water erupted from Leo's mouth. He gagged, choked, and let out a high, thin wail.
Mia collapsed back on her heels, tears streaming down her face. She pulled the soaking wet, coughing child into her arms.
"I've got you. I've got you."
Leo was shaking violently. He pushed against her chest, terrified. He hated touch. He hated strangers.
But then he looked at her face. He smelled the scent of her skin-no perfume, just soap and rain.
He stopped pushing. His small hands grabbed the wet fabric of her dress. He buried his face in her neck.
Katherine came running from the house, followed by Alfred.
"Leo!" Katherine shrieked. She reached for him. "Give him to me!"
Leo screamed. A sound of pure terror. He clung to Mia harder, wrapping his legs around her waist.
"No!" he rasped. His voice was rusty from disuse.
Katherine froze. "He... he spoke?"
Leo looked up at Mia. His eyes were wide, dark, and filled with a desperate, crushing recognition.
"Mommy?" he whispered.
The word hung in the air, heavier than the storm clouds.
Mia's heart stopped. She knew, logically, she wasn't his mother. Her baby was... somewhere else.
But looking into this broken, lonely child's eyes, something inside her shattered.
She smoothed his wet hair back. She didn't correct him.
"I'm here," she whispered. "Mommy's here."
