Chapter 6 - THE BOY IN THE WINDOW
The property stood beyond a narrow road lined with pine trees.
It was an old house with faded shutters and a rusted gate. No one answered when Daniel knocked. The front door was locked, but the curtains moved upstairs.
Lucas waited in the car.
He did not want to frighten Isabella if she was inside.
A woman appeared at the upstairs window.
Her hair was shorter. Her face was thinner. A pale scar crossed her left cheek.
But Lucas recognized her.
“Bella.”
The woman froze.
Then she disappeared from the window.
Lucas stepped out of the car.
“Isabella!”
The front door opened.
She stood in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
Then Isabella whispered, “Lucas?”
He crossed the porch in three steps.
She backed away.
“Don't come closer.”
He stopped.
“It's me.”
“I know.”
“Bella, I've been looking for you.”
She shook her head.
“You were told I was dead.”
“I was told you were both dead.”
Her eyes filled.
“Daniel?”
Lucas looked at her.
“Where is he?”
A small figure appeared behind her.
A boy stood in the hallway, perhaps eight years old. He had dark hair and gray-blue eyes.
Lucas felt his knees weaken.
“Daniel?”
The boy stared at him with caution.
Isabella put an arm around the child.
“It's all right, sweetheart.”
Daniel looked at Lucas.
“Who is he?”
Lucas could not speak.
Isabella swallowed.
“Your father.”
The boy stepped backward.
Lucas stopped himself from reaching out.
“I'm sorry,” he said. “I'm so sorry.”
Daniel looked at his mother.
“You said he was gone.”
“I thought he was.”
“Did he leave us?”
Isabella closed her eyes.
“No, sweetheart.”
Lucas knelt on the porch.
“I never left you. I thought I had lost you.”
Daniel did not move.
Isabella's voice trembled.
“Victor brought us here. He told me the house was unsafe. He said you had been killed in the warehouse attack.”
Lucas went cold.
“He told you I was dead?”
“He showed me a photograph of your car after the explosion. He said there was nothing left to recover.”
“Why didn't you contact me?”
“I tried.”
She turned and went inside. When she returned, she held a small metal box.
Inside were letters.
Dozens of them.
Each one addressed to Lucas.
“I sent them to the estate,” she said. “Every one came back. Then Victor told me you had chosen to leave the family and that if I tried again, Daniel would be taken away.”
Lucas looked at the letters.
“Who kept you here?”
“Peter Sloane. He said he was protecting us. He brought food and medicine. He never let us use a phone.”
“Did Victor visit?”
“Twice. The last time was six months ago.”
Lucas's hands curled into fists.
“What did he say?”
“That you were still grieving. That you had become unstable. He told me not to contact you because you would blame me for the fire.”
Lucas looked at Daniel.
“Did he hurt you?”
The boy shook his head.
“Not me. He said Mommy had to stay quiet.”
Lucas stood.
“Daniel, I want you to come home.”
The boy looked at his mother.
Isabella's face was filled with fear.
“Lucas, Victor has men everywhere. If he knows we're gone—”
“He already knows.”
Lucas's phone rang.
Daniel, his head of security, was calling.
“Boss, we have a problem. Victor has left the estate. He took three guards and emptied his office.”
Lucas looked toward the road.
“Where is he going?”
“We don't know.”
May you like
Lucas glanced at Isabella and his son.
“Then we move now.”
