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Chapter_92
Freya’s eyes narrowed as she quickly assessed the scene. She strode toward Quinn, her steps deliberate. “You,” she said, her voice sharp with the slightest edge of suspicion. “You’re fine with this, aren’t you?”
Quinn, still uncomfortable with the baby’s presence, simply nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She kept her focus on the child, avoiding Freya’s intense gaze. The room felt stifling, heavy with unspoken words.
Freya didn’t wait for a response. She crossed her arms, standing a little too close to Quinn. “I thought you’d be more… distant. You seem too comfortable with this.” She gestured toward the baby, her eyes flicking briefly to the stroller. “You don’t even want your own, but you’re willing to look after mine?”
Quinn stiffened, her fingers curling around the glass of water in her hand. She didn’t want to engage with Freya, didn’t want to entertain any of her provocations. Still, the words seemed to come out before she could stop them. “It’s just for a moment,” she said quietly, her voice almost drowned by the discomfort of the conversation. “I’m not looking for anything from this.”
Freya’s lips curled into a knowing smile, one that lacked warmth. “No, of course not. You’re just… a caretaker, aren’t you?” She turned her back on Quinn, heading to the kitchen but leaving the words to linger in the air.
Quinn sighed, pushing away from the couch. She couldn’t stay in this room any longer, not with the suffocating atmosphere Freya had created. But before she could leave, her phone buzzed in her pocket, an unexpected interruption. She pulled it out quickly, seeing a message from Jasper.
Are you alright? I heard you weren’t feeling well.
Quinn hesitated, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She could almost hear the concern in his words, despite the casual nature of their relationship. It made her heart ache. What was she doing here, caught in the web of the Kennedys’ world, when there was someone out there who genuinely cared for her?
She quickly typed back, I’m fine. Just a little under the weather. Thanks for checking in.
Her heart twisted with the response, knowing that it wasn’t the full truth. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything more, not with the tension in the room and not with the ghosts of her past lingering so close. She glanced at the baby again, then at the door that led outside, to the freedom she craved.
But she didn’t move. Not yet.
Freya’s voice broke through her thoughts again as she reentered the room, her tone now softer but still laced with that sharp edge. “You’re still here. I thought you’d be long gone by now.” She glanced at the stroller where Walter’s son slept, before turning her gaze back to Quinn, her expression unreadable. “I’m not sure what you want from all this, but don’t forget who you are.”
Quinn felt a pang of bitterness. She wanted to say something, to tell Freya just how much she hated being trapped in this world of secrets, of games, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she just nodded.
“Alright,” she said quietly, the weight of the room pressing in on her. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Freya’s lips curled into a smile, but it was one that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure you will,” she said before turning to leave.
Quinn stood there, alone with the baby, feeling more isolated than ever. The child’s soft gurgles filled the silence as she stared down at him, wondering how things had gone so wrong, how she had ended up here.
She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about her own lost child, the one she never had a chance to protect. The memory of that pain clung to her, like a shadow she couldn’t shake.
