He didn’t listen. He rushed past her and lifted Sophia, who screamed until she recognized him and clung to his neck.
“Daddy, I was scared,” she sobbed.
Michael turned to Claire, fury blinding him. In that instant, he didn’t see the woman he loved. He saw betrayal—too similar to his ex-wife, who had taken money and left motherhood behind.
“How could you do this?” he demanded.
Claire pleaded, insisting she had just arrived and found Sophia like that. Michael pointed to the broken latch, the destroyed drawings. The housekeepers, Rosa and Linda, rushed in. Under pressure, they confessed: Claire had threatened them, they said. Claimed she locked Sophia away whenever Michael traveled.
Claire denied it, crying, but Michael’s past closed his ears.
“Ten minutes,” he said coldly. “Then I call the police.”
Claire looked at Sophia one last time. The child wasn’t angry—only terrified, glancing toward the upper windows of the mansion.
“I’ll leave,” Claire said quietly. “But you’re wrong. And she’ll pay for it.”
That night, Margaret Reed comforted her son, feeding his anger and reinforcing the idea that blood was the only loyalty. Exhausted, Michael believed her.
Later, Margaret went to Sophia’s room.