Eyewitness. Carol Ericson
Kieran’s disappearance. She could hardly drag herself out on a date.
“We all thought you were dead. I—I’m relieved and so happy that you survived.”
His lips twisted. “Did I?”
“You’re alive.”
“I am.” He shifted in the chair as if to remind himself. “And you have your whole life ahead of you with your son. Are you married? Divorced?”
Uh-oh.
“No.”
Kieran’s hands curled around the arms of the chair. “You never married Michael’s father?”
“No.”
His body stiffened, the relaxed slouch replaced by planes and angles. “Where is he, Michael’s father?”
“Don’t you know, Kieran?”
“No.” He shot to the edge of his seat, his muscles coiled and ready for flight.
“He’s sitting across from me. You’re Michael’s father.”
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