and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. Eleanor Whitmore, a woman who had lived her life with unyielding control, now stood on uncertain ground, her heart caught between disbelief and recognition.
The baby, oblivious to the tension, gurgled and reached out, his little fingers grasping at the air. Eleanor’s gaze softened ever so slightly, but her mind raced with questions and doubts. How had this been hidden from her? Why had Jonathan, her beloved Jonathan, concealed such a monumental part of his life?
Maya shifted the baby in her arms, sensing the turmoil within Eleanor. “I didn’t come here to cause trouble,” she said quietly. “I just thought he should know where his father rests. I wanted to feel close to him, even if just for a moment.”
