“Much better. Mr. Sorokin feels they can leave in another day or two. I suspect they don’t particularly want to, but they know it’s dangerous to remain.”

He might’ve been gabbing about her instead of the children and their protector. Was she selfish to have stayed even as long as she had? These past days with Baz had been brilliant. He held her and kissed her, told her he loved her. But staying put him in harm’s way.

One week before her only opportunity to free him came due. But she had to already be gone by then. That took planning. And time—something she was quickly running out of.

Baz peered out the front window, no doubt watching for his uncle. She joined him, and without hesitating, he set his arm around her again. She leaned against him. She closed her eyes, shutting out all the questions she had, all the uncertainty.

“I think I hear a carriage.” Baz narrowed his eyes on the street outside. “That’s likely my uncle. I’ll let him in.”

He moved with enthusiasm and excitement. This new family member was important to Baz. His patients were important. The rescue work he did was too. His writing. All those things tied him to London. The only thing tying her there was him.

In the dark quiet of night, she had contemplated suggesting he relocate to wherever she ran to. They could pretend to be strangers, fall in love, marry. This time it’d be because they wanted to. They could build a life they’d chosen together.

Except he wouldn’t’ve truly chosen it. He’d have given up everything because she needed him to. Again.

And, just as he’d been forcibly separated from his mother when he was a boy, he’d be forced to sever ties with his uncle, the only connection he had to the mother he still mourned.

Why was it life rarely offered anything but terrible choices?

She tucked some loose hair behind her ear. He’d almost certainly be telling his uncle she was his wife. The only people they were keeping this marriage a secret from were her family. Baz’s newly discovered family were welcome to know. That’d make pretending she were a newfound love down the road impossible without cutting his uncle out of his life.

She could hear their voices in the entryway, though she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She swallowed the lump of worry building in her throat, telling her heart to slow down. There was an answer to all this somewhere. There had to be.

Baz entered the room first, a broad smile on his face. “Gemma, I’d like you to meet Mr. Snelling.” He stepped to the side, allowing his uncle to enter.

Gemma froze. Ice wrapped around her heart and lungs.

Mr. Snelling was not Baz’s uncle. He was hers.