"Mr. Vance!" Donald stammered, his voice trembling violently. "I—I am so sorry! This idiot waitress pushed right past me. I’m calling security right now to throw her out—"
"Shut up, Donald," Victor’s voice came out as a low, gravelly rasp. It wasn't loud, but it cut through the room like a blade.
Donald froze instantly, his mouth snapping shut.
Victor slowly sat up, moving with a deliberate, hypnotic care so as not to startle the baby. Ellie made a soft snuffling sound, rubbing her small nose against his dress shirt before sinking back to sleep. Victor looked down at her for a fraction of a second, his expression unreadable, before raising his gaze to me.
"Is this yours?" he asked.
"Yes," I gasped, the word barely escaping my throat. "She’s mine. I’m... I’m so sorry, sir. Please. Just let me take her, and I’ll leave. I’ll pack my things and never come back."
I stepped forward, my hands trembling violently as I reached out for my baby. Every instinct in my body was screaming at me to grab Ellie and run. But before I could touch her, Victor raised a single finger, stopping me in my tracks.
"How did she get down here, Lena?" Victor asked softly.
My heart did a terrifying leap. He knows my name.
"I... I brought her to work," I confessed, my eyes filling with tears I couldn't hold back. "My babysitter canceled. I didn't have anyone else. I couldn't afford daycare, and if I missed my shift, I’d lose this job... and if I lose this job, my baby and I will be on the street. I hid her in the storage room. I don't know how she got down here. I swear I didn't mean to trespass."