Chapter 25
Maya's POV:
Chloe and I stayed up late that night, talking until her words started slurring together and her head drooped against the armrest. I helped her stumble to my bedroom, tucked her in, and closed the door softly behind me.
By the time I collapsed on the bed, it was past 2 AM.
The next morning, I woke up at 7:50—later than usual. My body felt heavy, my eyes gritty from lack of sleep.
Shit.
I threw on clothes and hurried downstairs to the corner bodega. Three breakfast sandwiches—bacon, egg, and cheese for me, avocado toast for Chloe, and a blueberry muffin with orange juice for Amy.
When I got back upstairs, Amy was already awake, brushing her teeth in the bathroom.
She turned when she heard me. "Mommy!"
I leaned down and pressed my forehead against hers. "Morning, baby. Did you sleep okay?"
"Uh-huh." She rinsed her toothbrush and set it back in the cup.
"Is Aunt Chloe awake?" I asked.
"I don't think so. She's still in your room."
"I brought breakfast for all of us." I held up the bag. "Your favorite."
"Yay!" She clapped her hands together. "Should I wake her up?"
I shook my head. "Let's let her sleep a little longer. She had a rough night."
Amy nodded seriously, as if she understood exactly what that meant.
We sat at the kitchen table together, eating in comfortable silence.
After breakfast, she pulled out the workbook she'd been nagging me to buy—a second-grade math book she'd found on Amazon. Way too advanced for a four-year-old, but she loved it.
I watched her settle in at the table, pencil in hand, completely focused.
"I'm heading to work, okay?" I said, grabbing my bag. "Stay home and keep Aunt Chloe company."
"Okay." She didn't look up from her workbook, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "I bet she'll still be sleeping when you get back."
I laughed despite myself. "I wouldn't be surprised."
---
By the time I got to the office, it was already 8:53.
I'd barely set my bag down when Julian appeared in the doorway of his office.
"Maya. Come in."
I followed him inside.
He closed the door behind me and leaned against his desk, arms crossed. "We're going to Austin tomorrow."
I blinked. "We?"
"You and me. Business trip."
My stomach dropped.
"Mr. Garrison," I said carefully. "I told you when I started—I don't do business trips. I have Amy. There's no one to watch her."
Julian's expression didn't change. "I know your situation, Maya. But this is important. I need someone I can trust, and that's you."
I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off.
"I've already thought about it," he said. "You can leave Amy at my place. I have a housekeeper—she's been with my family for years. She can take care of her."
I hesitated.
His place?
With a stranger?
But what choice did I have?
This was my job. I didn't get to pick and choose which parts of it I wanted to do.
And Julian was offering me a solution. A good solution.
If I said no, I'd look difficult. Ungrateful. Like I couldn't handle the responsibilities that came with this position.
"Okay," I said finally. "Thank you, Mr. Garrison. I appreciate it."
He nodded. "Good. We leave tomorrow afternoon. Pack light—we'll only be gone two days."
---
That evening, I sat Amy down on the couch.
"Sweetie, I have to go on a work trip tomorrow."
She looked up from her math workbook. "For how long?"
"Just two days. But I need you to stay at Mr. Garrison's house while I'm gone. He has a housekeeper who'll take care of you."
Amy's face scrunched up slightly. "Mr. Garrison's house?"
"Yes. Is that okay?"
She was quiet for a moment, her little fingers tracing the edge of the workbook.
Then she nodded. "Okay."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'll be good, Mommy."
"I know you will, baby."
---
Adam's POV:
I'd been out of the country for a week—back-to-back meetings in London and Frankfurt. By the time I landed in Boston, I was exhausted.
But the first thing I did when I got home wasn't sleep.
I showered, changed into clean clothes, and grabbed my phone.
I opened Instagram and searched for Maya's account.
User not found.
I stared at the screen.
What the fuck?
I tried typing her username again, carefully.
Same result.
No users found.
She'd blocked me. Completely wiped me out.
I exited Instagram and pulled up her contact.
The call went straight to an automated message.
The number you have dialed is no longer in service.
I tried again.
Same message.
My jaw tightened.
She blocked my number too.
I pulled up my work phone and dialed her.
It rang three times before a small voice answered.
"Hello?"
I paused. "Amy?"
"Yes?"
"It's Mr. Sterling. Is your… aunt there?"
"She's in the shower."
"Tell her to call me back when she's done."
"Okay."
I was about to hang up when she spoke again.
"Mr. Sterling?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I come stay at your house?"
I frowned. "What?"
"My aunt has to go on a business trip," Amy said quickly. "She wants me to stay at Mr. Garrison's house, but I don't want to. Can I stay with you instead?"
"You're staying with Mr. Garrison?" I asked carefully.
"No, not with him. He has a housekeeper. She'll watch me." She paused. "My aunt and Mr. Garrison are going on the trip together."
Together.
My grip tightened on the phone.
"I see." I paused. "I'll come pick you up tomorrow morning."
"Really? We live in Somerville," Her voice lit up with excitement. "Tomorrow my aunt is taking me to Mr. Garrison's building. We'll be outside waiting for a cab. Around 8:30."
Somerville.
My chest tightened.
Not the address she gave me last time.
"What's the address?" I asked.
She rattled off the street name and building number.
I grabbed a pen and scribbled it down on the back of an envelope.
"Got it," I said. "I'll be there at 8:30."
"Thank you, Mr. Sterling!" She paused, then her voice dropped to a whisper. "But don't tell my aunt it was me who told you the address, okay? Just say you... you found it yourself or something."
I pressed my lips together.
She's four years old and already covering her tracks.
Just like her aunt.
"Alright," I said. "I won't tell her."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Okay!" She giggled, then added in a rush, "I have to go. I think my aunt is getting out of the shower."
The line went dead.
I set the phone down slowly and stared at the address I'd written.
Somerville.
She lied to my face.
Gave me a fake address. Blocked my number. Blocked my Instagram.
What the hell is she so afraid of?
What the fuck are you running from?