I want to say yes. Want to know every detail, want to catch Layla in a lie, want proof that she's as manipulative as I think she is.
But something stops me.
"No." The word surprises me as much as it does them. "No, let it go."
"Violet’s ..."
"I mean it." I look at both of them. "If Layla lost a baby, whether by choice or by chance, that's her business. And if she's lying about it, if this is all some elaborate sympathy play, then she's even more pathetic than I thought. Either way, I'm not doing this."
"Doing what?" Harper asks carefully.
"Becoming someone who investigates someone else's pregnancy loss to use it against them." I feel something shift in my chest, something that's been wound tight for months starting to loosen. "I'm not that person. I won't be that person. Not even for
