She poked her own temple. "My mommy is a world-famous brain specialist. She could perform a craniotomy for you. Sounds like you need to drain some excess fluid from your head."
Stunned silence. Then a ripple of stifled laughter.
The mockery snapped Joanna's last thread of reason. She lunged forward, reaching for Lucy. "Come with me!"
Before she could touch the girl, I stepped out from the shadows. I moved swiftly, placing myself between the crazed woman and my daughter.
Joanna froze. Her pupils contracted, her breath hitching as if she were staring at a ghost.
"Asher?" Her voice trembled. "You didn't die?"
The revelation sent a shockwave through the crowd. Whispers ceased. All eyes locked on me.
The man who had jumped from a rooftop six years ago was standing here, alive.
A figure shoved through the stunned onlookers. Matthew Dickerson.
He looked me up and down, his lip curling into a sneer.
"So, it is you. The Farley chauffeur."
Matthew crossed his arms, radiating arrogance. "You staged that suicide six years ago as a ploy for sympathy, didn't you? And now you're dragging the kid back into the spotlight. Quite the performance."
His gaze swept over Lucy and me with undisguised contempt.