Chapter 8 - A Father's Performance.
The video spread overnight.
Millions of people watched Grant Holloway stand outside Beacon Crest and misname his premature daughter while insisting he was a devoted father.
His public-relations strategy collapsed before sunrise.
Grant blamed the reporter.
Then exhaustion.
Then stress.
Nobody believed him.
Vanessa watched the clip from a hotel room three states away.
Her attorney sat across from her.
"You need to decide how much you're willing to disclose."
Vanessa stared at the television.
"Everything."
The attorney studied her.
"That may expose you too."
"I know."
"Then why?"
Vanessa placed one hand over her stomach.
"Because I finally understand what Grant does when someone becomes inconvenient."
Meanwhile, Emma woke to the sound of Noah's monitor.
She immediately sat up.
Rachel smiled.
"Don't panic."
Emma blinked.
"What happened?"
"Something good."
Dr. Sloan approached.
"We're reducing Noah's respiratory support today."
Emma covered her mouth.
"Really?"
"He still has a long road."
"I know."
"But he's showing us he wants to do more work on his own."
Emma touched the incubator.
"That's my boy."
Noah's hand curled reflexively.
His fingers barely wrapped around the tip of Emma's little finger.
She laughed through tears.
For several minutes, Grant no longer existed.
Nothing existed except the warm pressure of Noah's hand.
Later that morning, Rebecca arrived.
"Grant filed an emergency request for visitation."
Emma looked toward the incubators.
"What happens now?"
"A judge will likely permit some form of supervised access unless medical conditions make it inappropriate."
Emma nodded.
"I don't want to keep the babies from their father because I'm angry."
Rebecca studied her.
"That's important."
"But I won't let him use them."
"We won't."
A temporary arrangement was created.
Grant would be allowed a brief supervised NICU visit without Vanessa.
No media.
No personal photographer.
No business associates.
Only medical staff and a court-appointed observer.
Grant arrived that afternoon.
He had changed.
His suit was less polished.
Dark circles sat beneath his eyes.
He stepped into the NICU and looked at the incubators.
For a moment, Emma saw something human cross his face.
Fear.
Maybe even regret.
Then he noticed the observer.
His expression changed again.
He moved closer to Noah.
"Hey, buddy."
Emma said nothing.
Grant turned toward Elise.
"And there's my princess."
Emma's jaw tightened.
At least he remembered her name this time.
Grant stood awkwardly between the incubators.
He did not know which tubes were which.
He did not know which baby had struggled the previous night.
He did not know Noah's weight.
He did not know Elise's latest oxygen requirement.
The observer asked a simple question.
"How often have you received medical updates?"
Grant hesitated.
"My wife has kept me out of things."
Emma looked at him.
Dr. Sloan spoke calmly.
"Our records show the medical team attempted to contact you twelve times."
Grant froze.
The observer looked at him.
"Twelve?"
Dr. Sloan nodded.
"Six calls and six secure messages."
Grant swallowed.
"My schedule was complicated."
Emma almost laughed.
The observer wrote something down.
Grant looked at Elise.
He reached toward the incubator port.
Rachel stepped closer.
"You need to sanitize first."
Grant withdrew his hand.
"Right."
He followed the procedure.
Then he touched Elise's tiny foot.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Grant's face softened again.
Emma watched carefully.
She wanted to believe that somewhere inside him, fatherhood might still awaken.
Then Grant whispered.
"I didn't know they were this small."
Emma looked away.
He had seen them before.
He simply had not looked.
After fifteen minutes, Grant asked if he could leave.
The observer noted the time.
Emma remained beside Elise.
Grant paused at the doorway.
"Can we talk privately?"
"No."
"Emma."
"Anything you need to say can be said through our attorneys."
His eyes hardened.
"This doesn't have to become a war."
Emma turned.
"You brought divorce papers into a NICU."
Grant lowered his voice.
"I made mistakes."
"Yes."
"I was under pressure."
"You called your children burdens."
"I was angry."
"You canceled my insurance."
Grant looked away.
Emma continued.
"You emptied our accounts."
"Those were business decisions."
"You tried to use my credentials while I was unconscious."
Grant's eyes snapped back.
The observer looked up.
Emma saw his panic.
So did everyone else.
"That isn't true."
Emma held his gaze.
"I didn't say who did it."
Grant said nothing.
That was enough.
When he left, Rebecca approached Emma.
"He reacted badly."
"I noticed."
The observer had noticed too.
That evening, Daniel called.
Peter Lang had officially entered a cooperation agreement with investigators.
He turned over thousands of messages.
Among them was one conversation that changed the case again.
Grant had ordered Peter to reactivate Emma's credentials two weeks before her hospitalization.
Peter asked why.
Grant replied with one sentence.
Because eventually everything needs to look like it was her decision.
Emma read the message.
Then she looked toward her children.
May you like
Grant had not simply planned to leave her.
He had planned to leave her carrying the blame.
