Chapter 19: Manon's Secret

"Far enough that it is none of your business," Margaux said.

Hortense's eyes did not leave her stomach.

"It is my son's child."

"It is mine."

"You are a hired scientist with a licence and a rich friend," Hortense said, very softly. "A Marceau child belongs in a Marceau house."

"Then you should be very happy for the one your son's wife is carrying."

Hortense went rigid.

Behind her, Manon made a small, sick sound.

Margaux walked on down the corridor.

She heard Hortense say, "Thibault. Come out here. At once," and she did not turn around.

She went into the ladies' room at the end of the hall and put both hands on the cold sink.

Her reflection looked back at her, white and tired.

She was fifteen weeks pregnant and had just won a board vote, and her knees would not stop shaking.

The door opened.

Manon came in fast and locked it behind her.

"Get out," Margaux said.

"Please."

"Get out, Manon."

"I'll go on my knees if you want me to." Manon's voice cracked. "Please, just listen. One minute."

She was crying openly now, her mascara running down her cheeks.

She did not look like the girl in the pink coat at the dress shop.

She looked twenty years old and terrified.

Margaux crossed her arms.

"One minute."

"You can't tell her how far along you are. If Hortense counts the weeks, she'll want yours."

"She wants a grandson, Manon. She'll take whichever she can get."

"No, you don't understand." Manon pressed her wet hands against her mouth. "Mine might not be his."

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