Chapter 55
Charlotte slipped off her sunglasses, forcing her voice into something raspy and weak, thick with a sob that sounded practiced but still convincing.
Jasper froze for a beat, then jerked his head up.
When he saw the familiar figure he hadn't seen in days, a flicker of light sparked in his dulled eyes. It vanished just as fast, like he'd remembered James's stern warning, and his small body instinctively scooted back.
"Ms. Johnson… Dad said I'm not allowed to see you…" Jasper's voice came out timid, wobbling with hesitation.
The words hit Charlotte like a needle driven straight into a heart that was already shredded. But she didn't have room to retreat now. She had to break through Jasper's defenses, and she had to do it fast.
"Jasper, do you not want me anymore, either?"
Her knees gave out, and she dropped to the chilly early-fall ground without any concern for how she looked.
She yanked Jasper into her arms and held him tight. Tears poured like a busted dam, soaking the neat little uniform jacket. "Sweetie, I know your dad's mad at me, but I miss you so much. I haven't slept in days. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is you all alone…"
Charlotte's crying turned frantic, like she'd been wronged beyond reason. "They're about to kick me out. I might never get to see you again. If you don't want me either, then I might as well just die right now!"
The second those words landed, Jasper's already fragile little sense of safety crumpled.
He was only six. How could he possibly recognize the ugliest kind of adult disguise?
He only knew that Isabella was always busy or wearing worry like a second skin, and James was cold, a workaholic who barely softened.
Only Charlotte would tuck him in gently, sit with him while he drew, and buy him every toy he ever pointed at.
"Ms. Johnson, don't cry… don't go… Jasper doesn't want you to go…" Jasper panicked at the harsh sound of her sobbing and started bawling too, his small hands clinging around her neck.
"Who's trying to make you leave? I'll tell Dad!" He cried, voice breaking. "I'll make Dad kick the bad person out!"
Feeling the tremble of his body and the way he leaned into her, Charlotte's lashes stuck together with tears. Behind the blur, something sharp and vicious flashed in her eyes.
"But your dad won't listen," Charlotte said, shaping her face into helpless despair. She stroked Jasper's tear-soaked cheek, coaxing him gently. "As long as I'm out there, that bad person will keep bullying me. Unless…"
"Unless what?" Jasper hiccuped, desperate, like he'd grabbed onto a life preserver.
Charlotte lowered her voice. She moved in close, a hiss of words meant only for him, feeding poison into an innocent mind one slow drop at a time.
"Unless you get really, really sick. The kind of sick where even the doctors can't do anything, and you cry and scream that you need me with you. Your dad loves you so much. If he sees you suffering like that, he'll soften. He always listens to you. If you're sick and you hold his hand and beg him… he won't let the police take me away."
Jasper blinked at her, confused. "Sick? But I'm not sick."
Charlotte didn't hesitate. She reached into her trench coat pocket and pulled out a small packet she'd prepared long before she came.
It was a fast-acting vomiting powder she'd gotten off the black market. It wasn't lethal, but it was enough to make a child look terrifyingly close to critical in minutes.
"If you want to save me, you have to get sick. Even if it's just pretend." Charlotte's usually gentle face twisted with something frantic and hard to recognize as she shoved the packet into the pocket of Jasper's overalls.
"Listen to me. When the nanny comes, you sneak it into your water and drink it. Then you roll on the ground and cry that your stomach hurts. And no matter who comes, you don't let them touch you. Only me. No one else."
Jasper recoiled from her, frightened by the look on her face, but obedience had been drilled into him since he was little. And beneath that was a deeper fear—losing the only warmth he thought he had.
With tears trembling on his lashes, he nodded stiffly.
"Good boy." Charlotte's voice snapped back into softness. "My sweet Jasper. My whole life is in your hands now."
She kissed him once, quick and possessive, then slid her sunglasses back on. Like a rat bolting for cover, she disappeared into the trees behind the playground.
Ten minutes later, Emerald City private elementary school dropped into full-blown chaos.
After one sip of water, Jasper suddenly clutched his stomach and started rolling on the ground, screaming.
His body convulsed. His face went paper-white. He vomited in huge, violent waves, and within minutes his fever spiked to a terrifying 102.2°F.
"Jasper! What's happening?" The nanny went rigid with panic, then lunged forward, trying to scoop him up.
But Jasper fought like he'd lost his mind, flailing his small arms and refusing any touch. Over and over, he screamed the one sentence that could make the Sinclair Family's hearts stop.
"It hurts… I want Ms. Johnson… I don't want anyone else… Ms. Johnson! Help me!"
The school immediately activated its highest-level red emergency protocol. A dedicated ambulance arrived with sirens tearing through the air, and Jasper—who looked dangerously ill—was rushed to the top private hospital owned by The Sinclair Group.
The sudden disaster hit like an earthquake, and the news reached James all the way in Tech Harbor.
In the hotel where Northstar Architecture was staying, James stood at the floor-to-ceiling window with a cigar burning down between his long fingers.
Whatever wild hunger and madness had taken him the night before was gone. In its place was a hollow emptiness that threatened to swallow him whole after Isabella's final, resolute departure.
Then his assistant didn't even knock. The suite door flew open.
"Mr. Sinclair!" The assistant's face was white as paper, his voice shaking hard. "Something happened—Jasper got sick at school out of nowhere. High fever, convulsions, and symptoms of severe gastric bleeding. He's already in the ICU. They're trying to stabilize him."
James's hand jerked. Ash dropped onto the expensive carpet.
"What did you just say?"
This was a man who could watch markets crash without changing expression, the ruler of a billion-dollar empire. But for the first time in his life, real fear punched clean through him.
Jasper. His pride. His treasure. His son.
"Get us back to Novaria. Now," James snapped, already grabbing his coat and striding for the door. His voice turned steel. "Call the best pediatric specialists in the world and get them to the hospital. And in five minutes, I want to know exactly what the hell happened."