They left the room in silence. As crazy as it was, she’d felt sorry for him. He’d seemed genuinely excited about his project, and he wasn’t without talent—but he also seemed to have no idea how violating the project was, and that had bothered her. It still bothered her, but he’d never shown anything but discretion in their business dealings, and he’d never crossed a line with her after that, so she’d kept with the family tradition of having a Barton handle her money. She’d tried to put it out of her mind, and the only person she’d ever told about the incident was Blaire.

Simon put his hand on her back as they all exited Gordon’s office.

“We’re all through, Sylvia,” Kate said.

“Annabelle and Hilda are right down the hall. I’ll take you to them,” she said, and the three of them fell in behind her.

She opened the door, and when Kate stepped inside, her heart stopped. The room was empty. A box of crayons lay on the table, and a half-colored picture had fallen to the floor.

Kate’s heart started pounding, and she felt as if she might faint. “Where is she?” She could barely get the words out. “Where is my daughter?”

“I, I . . . ,” Sylvia stuttered.

Kate felt the room begin to spin, and then she felt her father’s hand on her arm.

“Kate, honey, I’m sure they just went to the bathroom.”

Without a second thought, Kate ran from the room, down the hallway, and pushed open the door to the ladies’ room.

“Annabelle? Hilda?” she yelled, her voice rising hysterically. But there was no answer. A toilet flushed, the stall opened, and a young woman in a suit stepped out, looking confused.

Where were they? Running back out to the hall, she saw Gordon, who was now with the others.

“Kate—,” Gordon began, but before he could finish, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened.

“Mommy, look what Miss Hilda got me.”

Kate spun around and saw Annabelle standing in the elevator, grinning and holding an apple and a juice box.

Kate ran to her, stooped, and picked her up, burying her head in her daughter’s shoulder and shaking with relief.

“Mommy, my juice is spilling,” Annabelle scolded.

Kate brushed the curls back from her forehead. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Daddy, look what I have,” Annabelle said, and Simon took her from Kate’s arms. She squealed with delight as he twirled her around.

Kate turned to Hilda. “You scared me to death. Why on earth did you leave like that?” Her tone was sharp.