is a Bailey.”
Something about the sentence made my skin crawl.
I tightened my grip on the carrier.
“She is my daughter.”
“And my granddaughter.”
“That doesn’t give you ownership.”
Caleb stepped forward.
“Dad, enough.”
Ron looked sharply at him.
For the first time, there was something different in his expression.
Not anger.
Control.
Caleb noticed it too.
“Dad,” he repeated. “Go.”
Ron stared at him for a long moment.
Then smiled.
Coldly.
“Fine.”
He put down his cup.
“But don’t call us when she makes you choose.”
Twenty minutes
