"Ivy, you—"

"Sorry, we're done here. Please stop contacting me."

Ivy had no interest in hearing whatever Rosetta had to say. Even if Rosetta was her own mother, Ivy wanted nothing to do with her. She hung up. But as Ivy paced across the room, something kept nagging at her.

She picked up her phone and checked her blocked callers list. Sure enough, Micah had called her several times in the early hours of the morning. After his calls were blocked, he'd even sent a few texts.

[Ivy, what happened? Why did you suddenly call me?]

[Ivy, where are you staying? Is anyone there with you?]

[Ivy, please, just let me know you're okay. I'm really worried about you.]

The messages came hours apart–the last one was sent at two in the morning.

God—

Ivy pressed her hand to her forehead and realized she'd stirred up trouble again. And the one to blame for all this? Jamison. If he hadn't called her last night, she never would have reached out to Micah, and none of this drama would have followed her into the morning.

But why should she be the only one suffering for it? No way–Jamison deserved to deal with the fallout too. Without a second thought, Ivy pulled up her call history, found Jamison’s number, and hit dial.

Jamison was heading to work when his car’s screen lit up with her name. He frowned, hesitated, but finally answered.

“Hello?”

“Jamison, what was your real reason for calling me last night? Was it because Micah complained to you, or are you just some kind of twisted manipulator?”

Jamison’s heart skipped a beat.

The way Ivy was talking, his first instinct was to wonder if she'd figured out his secret–that he was Dr. Handsome, the one from the forum. But since she hadn't come right out and said it, he decided to play it cool.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, feigning confusion.

“Oh, I should be asking you that! Last night you told me to call Micah and clear things up. I did, but instead of fixing anything, your precious nephew got the idea that I missed him–then Emma lost it, and now, thanks to you, I got an earful from the Windsors first thing this morning!”

Ivy was fuming, words tumbling out rapid-fire.

Outside her room, Katrina happened to be passing by. She heard Ivy’s raised voice, knocked, and peeked in.

“Ivy, what’s going on?”

Ivy shot her best friend a glance. “Nothing, just arguing with someone.”

Jamison, still on the line, overheard the exchange. At least Ivy didn’t know about his online identity. That was a relief.

Still, he felt a twinge of guilt–his one random call had triggered all this chaos. But he couldn't admit fault. If she pressed him for more details, what would he say? No, better to stick to the story.

“Micah did complain to me,” he said at last. “He said ever since you got back, he and Emma have been fighting nonstop.”

That much was true. After Emma’s miscarriage, Jamison had visited the hospital, and his nephew had unloaded all his woes.

“Ivy was speechless.

Jamison pressed on. “So, who in the Windsor family chewed you out?”

“Does it matter? The point is, I didn’t deserve any of this.”

“Hmm. Well, maybe I didn’t think this through. Sorry.”

Ivy’s eyes widened in surprise.

“What did you just say?”