Chương 4
“It’s fair,” Lily said.
Marcus did not stop her.
They left through the garage. Emma wore a pair of soft clinic slippers because Dr. Shah had cut the duct tape from her shoes. She carried the damaged shoes in a paper bag. When Marcus suggested throwing them away, she hugged the bag to her chest.
“Aunt Karen fixed them.”
“We’ll keep them,” he said.
The Blackwell home occupied three connected floors of a limestone building near the lake. It had bullet-resistant windows, a private elevator, and a kitchen Grace had designed to look ordinary despite the security glass hidden behind the garden doors.
The child welfare worker assigned to stay overnight was a young man named Owen Park. He arrived carrying a laptop, two phone chargers, and the strained expression of someone who had been warned repeatedly not to accept food or favors.
Lily gave Emma a tour.
“This is the kitchen. That drawer sticks. Daddy says he’ll fix it, but he doesn’t know how.”
“I know how,” Marcus said.
“You made it worse.”
“That was one time.”
“It’s still worse.”
Emma looked between them, uncertain whether disagreement was dangerous.
Marcus opened the refrigerator. “Yellow macaroni.”
Her eyes widened.
The cook had gone home, so Marcus made it himself. He had not cooked macaroni in years and used too much milk. Lily watched from the counter, swinging her legs.
“It’s watery.”
“It thickens.”
“You always say that.”
“I’ve made it once.”
“And it was watery.”
Emma sat at the table in Marcus’s jacket. Owen occupied the far end with his laptop. Leon stood near the door, speaking quietly into an earpiece.
Marcus set a bowl in front of Emma.
She stared at it.
“You can eat,” he said.
“Is Aunt Karen coming?”
The room went still.
“We’re looking for her.”
“She said not to look.”
“Why?”
Emma lifted one shoulder.
“She said if you found us, Mr. Adrian would find us too.”
Leon’s eyes met Marcus’s.
Lily pushed her own bowl away.
“Mr. Adrian comes here.”
“Not tonight,” Marcus said.
“He brought me the horse book.”
Marcus remembered. Adrian had arrived three weeks earlier with a beautifully illustrated book about thoroughbreds and a bottle of bourbon Marcus had not opened. He had sat in Grace’s chair by the window while Lily read aloud.
Emma’s spoon trembled against the bowl.
“Does he have a scar?” she asked.
Leon said, “Where?”
Marcus shot him a look, but Emma had already touched the side of her neck.
“A little white one.”
Adrian had a pale line below his left ear, a gift from a bottle fight in college. He claimed a woman had done it after he insulted her shoes.
Marcus sat opposite Emma.
“When did you see him?”
“At the motel.”
“With Aunt Karen?”
Emma nodded.
“What did he say?”
“I was in the bathroom.”
“What did you hear?”
She looked toward Owen. The child welfare worker had stopped typing.
Emma’s voice dropped.
“He said she couldn’t keep running. He said my mother ruined everything by making copies.”
“Copies of what?”
“I don’t know.”
“What happened after that?”
“Aunt Karen told me to put on my shoes. We left out the window.”
Lily’s eyes brightened despite the tension.
“You climbed out a window?”
“It was downstairs.”
“Oh.”
Marcus pressed his palms flat against the table. Adrian had access to every Blackwell company, every trust, every secure property, every old file related to Grace’s estate. He had arranged the funeral, handled the insurance claims, and selected the investigator who concluded that the truck driver responsible for Grace’s fatal crash had fallen asleep.
“Leon,” Marcus said.
The bodyguard crossed the room.
“Lock the building. Adrian gets no answer from anyone. Pull his access quietly. I want his location for the last forty-eight hours.”
Owen cleared his throat.
“I need to remind you that law enforcement—”
“I heard the conditions.”
“Pulling access sounds like action.”
“It sounds like protecting my home.”
Leon left.
Marcus’s phone vibrated on the counter.
ADRIAN.
The name glowed against the black screen.
Lily saw it.
“That’s him.”
Marcus let the call ring until it stopped.
A message appeared.
We need to talk before you make a mistake.
Marcus turned the phone facedown.
Emma took one careful spoonful of macaroni.
After dinner, Lily offered her room. Emma refused to sleep in the bed and curled beneath it instead, still wearing Marcus’s jacket. Lily crawled under with her.
Marcus stood in the doorway while Owen documented the arrangement.
“There are two beds in the guest room,” Marcus said.
“No,” Lily answered from beneath the bed.
“You can’t both sleep on the floor.”
“We’re not on the floor. We’re under the bed.”
“That is the floor.”
“It feels different.”
Emma’s face remained hidden behind the teddy bear.
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
Grace would have handled the moment without turning it into a negotiation. She would have brought blankets, complained about dust, and somehow made both children believe moving onto the bed had been their own idea.
He found two quilts and lay them on the rug.
“You stay under there tonight,” he said. “Tomorrow, we discuss furniture.”
Lily reached out and took a quilt.
“Good night, Daddy.”
Emma did not speak.
Marcus started to leave.
“Mr. Blackwell?”
He turned.
Only Emma’s eyes showed in the shadows.
“Are you mad at Aunt Karen?”
“Yes.”
She pulled the bear closer.
“But I’m going to find her before I decide what to do with that.”
Emma seemed to consider whether this was safe enough.
“She left something in Buttons.”
Marcus looked at the teddy bear.
“Buttons?”
Emma nodded.
“Aunt Karen said only give it to the man with Mommy’s watch.”
Marcus looked down at the metal band around his wrist.
Lily crawled out first, dragging Emma with her. Emma sat cross-legged on the quilt and examined the bear’s loose ear. Her fingers searched along the seam until she found a knot. Marcus crouched but did not touch it.
May you like
“May I?”
Emma hesitated, then handed him the bear.
