"Sadly, not our baby," Julian said quietly. He picked up the spoon and filled it. "But you need your strength. Eat first."
Amara opened her mouth to argue, to push, to ask the next question, but something in his face stopped her. She accepted the spoon instead.
Julian continued.
"The real mother of the baby we've been calling Divina," he said, keeping his voice even and unhurried, "is someone I know. From the states." He paused, choosing the words carefully, the way you carry something hot.
"She's nobody to worry about. A little unpredictable. But I want you to know I never…" He stopped. "There was never anything between us, Amara." Amara looked at him over the bowl.
"But she wants her baby back," she said. Not a question. Julian held her gaze. "Yes."
