There she was.
Right on schedule.
She pushed the pen toward me. “Sign now so Ethan can help.”
I smiled. Then asked, “Why?”
She blinked. Interesting. Then smiled again. “Well…” Pause. “You’ll be emotional after delivery.” Pause. “You won’t want stress.”
I nodded. Then asked softly, “Like Ashley?”
Silence.
Her face emptied. Tiny. Enough.
She recovered immediately. “What?”
I smiled and held eye contact too long. Then said, “Oh.” Pause. “Wrong woman?”
Nothing. Not a movement.
Interesting.
Then she stood too quickly, gathered the papers, smiled too hard, and said, “We’ll talk later.”
She left.
No muffins.
Forgot them.
Interesting.
I waited until I heard the elevator doors close, then took photographs of the muffin box, the pen, the spot where she had placed the papers, the time stamp from the building camera access log Harper had told me to request. I wrote down everything Diane said while the words were still fresh. Then I called Harper.
“She came.”
“I know,” Harper said. “Building security notified me after you added me as emergency contact.”
“She brought papers.”
“Did you sign anything?”
“No.”
“Good. Did you mention Ashley?”
“Yes.”
A brief pause. Then Harper laughed softly. “I wish I had seen her face.”
“She forgot the muffins.”
“That means you scared her.”
“I didn’t feel scary.”
“You don’t have to feel scary to be dangerous, Olivia. You just have to stop cooperating.”
That afternoon, Harper called again. Her voice was sharp. “Olivia.” Pause. “I found the venue.”
I closed my eyes.
She continued, “Private garden.” Pause. “Forty-two guests.” Pause. “Baby shower this Saturday.”
Long silence. Then, “Guess whose name is on the booking?”
I already knew.
She answered anyway. “Yours.”
I looked around my apartment. Tiny folded clothes. Discount crib tabs open on my laptop. Baby budget notes in my handwriting. A half-assembled basket of donated newborn clothes. The blank corner of the bedroom where the crib should have been. Suddenly, I understood.
Not just betrayal.
Replacement.
They had been preparing a celebration using my credit, while convincing me our daughter needed less.