“Wow.” Emma lurked against the wall outside the kitchen door. “What a bitch.” “She’s protective of her son.” God knows why she was defending the other woman. Holly nodded her head toward the top of the stairs. “How is she?” “She’s okay.” Emma gestured to the closed door of Portia’s room. “It would help if she took the medication, but she won’t because of her pregnancy.” “Did you know?” Holly wasn’t sure what difference it made, but it was suddenly important to hear Emma’s response. “Did you know she was pregnant?” “She never said a word.” Emma’s gaze slid away from hers. Anger surged through Holly. Emma was lying through her fucking teeth. And not even brave enough to look her in the eye while she did it. So quick to point the finger was Emma, and as quick to loudly proclaim her innocence. “But you suspected?” “The cards said—” “You knew, didn’t you?” She dared Emma to tell the truth for once. To stop hiding behind her New Age jargon and be honest.
