Chapter 1 - THE EDGE OF RAVENSTONE
Preston’s hands struck Madison between the shoulder blades before she understood why he had brought her to Ravenstone Cliff.
Her boots slid across packed snow. The guardrail had ended twenty feet behind them, where the county road narrowed beside a black wall of pine trees. Ahead was only wind, ice, and a drop so deep the valley lights looked like scattered sparks.
Madison caught the sleeve of Preston’s gray jacket.
“Preston, stop. Our son is moving.”
He peeled her fingers away one at a time.
“Fifty million matters more than either of you.”
Behind him, Vanessa stood beside the idling SUV, her brown coat snapping in the wind. She had been introduced to Madison six months earlier as a financial consultant helping Preston refinance their struggling maternity-clothing company. Now Vanessa’s expression held no surprise, only terror at how far the plan had gone.
“You said she’d only disappear,” Vanessa whispered.
Preston turned his head.
“And she will.”
He shoved again.
Madison fell backward.
For one sickening second, her body seemed to hang above the white slope. Then her shoulder struck stone. She rolled, clawing at ice until her hand closed around a buried root protruding from a narrow ledge.
Pain tore through her ribs. Her coat had ripped open at the side. Beneath it, her belly tightened so violently she couldn’t breathe.
Above her, Preston leaned over the edge with his phone raised.
“Let the snow finish it.”
Vanessa said something Madison couldn’t hear.
Then both of them disappeared.
Madison lay against the ledge, one boot hanging over open air. Snow collected in her hair and eyelashes. Every few minutes she pressed both palms against her stomach, waiting for movement.
Nothing came.
“Caleb,” she whispered to the name she and Preston had once chosen together. “Please.”
A faint kick answered beneath her right hand.
Madison cried without making a sound.
Nearly two hours later, light swept across the cliff face. She expected Preston’s phone again.
Instead, helicopter blades beat against the mountain air.
A rescue line descended through the snow. A broad-shouldered man in a black coat came down behind the harnessed paramedic, ignoring shouted instructions to remain above.
His silver hair whipped across his forehead as he reached the ledge.
He looked at Madison’s face, then at the torn teal maternity coat.
“Madison?”
She had seen his eyes before in the photograph her mother kept hidden behind her marriage certificate.
Richard Whitaker, CEO of Whitaker Atlantic Insurance Group.
The company Preston believed would pay him fifty million dollars.
The man her mother’s final letter claimed was Madison’s biological father.
Richard dropped to his knees.
“I’ve been looking for you for eleven days.”
Madison stared at him through the snow.
She had never told anyone about the letter.
Not even Preston.
May you like
Yet Preston had known enough to insure her life.
And Richard had known exactly where she was falling.
