"I thought they never found the body. How is she still alive?"
"Rumor has it she was pregnant with a bastard and killed herself out of shame..."
The whispers buzzed like a kicked hornet's nest.
Expressionless, I flung his hand away hard enough to send him stumbling.
I bent down. Straightened the child's bow tie. Rose to my full height.
Slowly, I peeled off the glove, revealing a palm roughened by years of saltwater and hard labor.
"Mr. Farley, you're mistaken." My voice was void of anything human. "I am this child's father, not your ex-wife."
Behind Liam, Evelyn Fox covered her mouth and screamed. "A ghost! Liam, she's a ghost!"
She cowered against his back, trembling violently.
Liam pulled her into his arms without thinking—muscle memory carved into his bones.
After murmuring something soothing, he turned back to me. The shock in his eyes had already curdled into pure disgust.
Five years later, his gaze still knew exactly where to stab.
He looked me up and down, sneering at my cargo pants and combat boots before his attention settled on the child.
"You didn't die, just hid for five years? What, did you run out of money? Did you drag this bastard back to beg?"