Miranda's POV
“What nonsense are you talking about? This is my child!” I scoff, baffled at the idea that I would mistake another kid for my own. I turn and stare at the man standing in front of the table I sit at.
The man’s face snarls, and he inches closer to us. I gently pull the boy closer to me, not wanting this man to take him away. My heart races in my chest, but I stand my ground.
“Don’t think that cozying up to my son will make me see you any differently,” his cold words effortlessly cut into my skin. I shake my head, my eyes narrowing in anger at the man. My fingers dig into the boy’s shoulders.
“Who the hell do you think you are?!” I demand, stepping in front of my boy to protect him.
“Drop the act.” The man’s tone lowers, and his eyes darken.
“What act?” I push. He scoffs.
