She snatched her purse off the couch and strode toward the restroom.

Sylvia offered an apologetic smile, taking the fresh towel from the waitress. She nced earnestly at Yves. "Mr. Hanson, I''ll go check on Mrs. Hanson. You two keep talking."

Yves gave her a chilly nod, barely feigning interest in his own wife.

Sylvia headed for the restroom.

Restroom.

As soon as Mrs. Hanson saw Sylvia, she dropped the edge of her skirt she''d just been lifting.

"What are you doing here? Useless girl. Wait till you marry into this family-you''ll see how things really are."

Sylvia clutched the towel, voice soft. "I''m sorry, Mrs. Hanson. Maybe you should step into a stall and dry off a bit?"

The spill hadnded in an awkward spot. If she didn''t dry it, her underwear would be soaked through—ufortable, to say the least.

Mrs. Hanson clearly didn''t want anyone seeing her, so the privacy of a stall was the best option.

But she hesitated.

Sylvia hurried on, "You can just hand me your skirt through the door. I''ll dry it with the hand dryer. It won''t take long."

Mrs. Hanson tutted, eyeing Sylvia''s submissive posture. "At least you know your ce. Stay put."

With that, Mrs. Hanson slipped into a stall and passed her damp skirt through the gap.

Sylvia pretended to focus on drying the skirt, but her gaze flicked to the slowly closing stall door.

Once it clicked shut, she grabbed the hand dryer with one hand and, with the other, unzipped Mrs. Hanson''s purse on the sink.

She hadn''t expected to find a stash of medication right on top.

There were ointments for bruises and swelling, plus a whole assortment of sleep aids.

Sylvia snapped a few quick photos. At the bottom of the bag, she found Mrs. Hanson''s phone.

She didn''t even have to think twice about the password-it was the same as Yves''s. Not surprising, really. Mrs. Hanson always seemed to watch Yves for cues before doing anything, as if her whole world revolved around his approval.

A mother like that had no sense of self.

And Yves''s password? That was easy. Anyone who''d seen the way he stared at Reese would figure it out.

Inside the phone, the photo album was squeaky clean-clearly scrubbed of anything she didn''t want anyone finding.

But curiously, the chat history with Kay waspletely untouched.

Sylvia scrolled up, her brow furrowing.

Mrs. Hanson was just as deferential to Kay as she was to her own

shen. In

all their conversation''s never pushed back, not even once.  s

Sure, the Hanson family wasn''t in the same league as the Sanfords.or

the Garcias, but Mrs. habet

shouldn''t be this submissive to Kay.  s

Sylvia''s mind raced as she read, startled by the implications.

But she calmed herself and quickly snapped photos of their entire conversation.

She was just about to slip the phone back into the purse when Mrs. Hanson called impatiently from the stall.

"Are you done yet? How can drying a skirt take this long?"

"Almost! It''s wool, ma''am. If I crank the heat up, it''ll scorch the fabric."

Sylvia exined as she tucked the phone back in ce.

She shut off the hand dryer and handed the skirt back through the door.

When Mrs Hanson emerged, she immediately snatched her purse and turned away, checking inside to make sure nothing was missing Satisfied, she shot Sylvia a cold re.  s

"Next time, be more careful."

"Yes, ma''am."

Sylvia bowed her head to wash her hands, and when she nced up again, Mrs. Hanson was already gone.

Being overlooked had its perks, she supposed.

She dried her hands and stepped out of the restroom-only to have a strong hand mp over her mouth and nose from behind.

Before she could react, an all-too-familiar scent filled her senses as someone pulled her close.

She struggled, but the grip only tightened, pressing her back against a broad chest.

A low, icy male voice whispered in her ear, "You''reing with me."fn2a9a Get full chapters from find?novel/fn2a9a