Yardley's heart instantly leaped into his throat. His fingertips turned ice cold.
Taking a deep breath, he forced down the panic in his eyes, gave Corinne a look to watch the baby, and strode to the end of the hallway before answering the call.
Scarlett's voice was tight and urgent, thick with overwhelming anxiety.
"Yardley, I just had a nightmare. I dreamt Dawn had a terrifyingly high fever and was seizing! How is she? Tell me the truth, right now!"
Yardley's brow twitched violently. He desperately tried to sound calm.
"She's fine. Relax, she's perfectly fine."
"I don't believe you!" Scarlett wasn't having any of it. "I'm coming over right now. Give her back to me. I have never had a nightmare feel that real before. I'm not taking any chances—I need to see her with my own eyes!"
Struggling to keep his voice steady, Yardley raised his tone defensively.
"Scarlett, I am her father. Do you really think I'd let anything happen to her?"
"She is incredibly loved here. Eleanor, my parents—they all adore her. They want her to stay here for a few more days. You don't need to come over, because even if you do, I'm not letting you see her!"
Before Scarlett could say another word, Yardley hung up.
He stood there, pale as a ghost, his palms slick with cold sweat.
On the other end of the line, Scarlett gripped her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. A dark sense of dread took root in her chest, spreading like wildfire.
A mother's intuition was never wrong. Something had happened to Dawn; otherwise, she wouldn't feel this suffocating terror.
Yardley claimed Dawn was "incredibly loved" by the Flynns? Scarlett didn't believe a single syllable.
Corinne's shallow greed, Franklin's obsession with money, Yardley's insufferable arrogance... in Scarlett's eyes, not a single person in that family was fit to care for a child.

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