Chapter 23 The Calm Before the Disaster
When I open my eyes, the room is dim and the weather has changed considerably.
The light coming through the curtains is different from what it was before. I lie still for a moment, blinking at the ceiling, my mind slow and foggy the way it always is when I've slept too hard in the middle of the day.
Then it all comes rushing back.
Vanessa's deadline and the recording comes rushing.
I sit up immediately. My hand is already reaching for my phone before I'm fully upright. I grab it from where it's fallen beside me on the bed and unlock the screen with shaking fingers.
It's 5:47 PM. I stare at those numbers for some time.
Five forty-seven.
The deadline was at noon.
I've been asleep for nearly five hours.
The realization makes my heart crash. I missed it. I was supposed to be awake. I was supposed to be present and ready and prepared for whatever was coming, and instead I was lying here completely unconscious while the clock ran out.
My hands are trembling as I check my messages.
There's nothing from Caius. Absolutely nothing.
I check again, scrolling up through our conversation history just to make sure I haven't somehow missed something. But there's nothing. No update or instructions ot reassurance that he handled it or that things are okay or that I should stop panicking.
I check my call log next. No missed calls from Caius or anyone at all. None from any unknown number that might have been the court, or a lawyer, or anyone connected to this situation.
Nothing from anyone.
I lower my phone slowly and sit on the edge of the bed, trying to make sense of it
This silence could mean that everything is fine. It could mean Caius found a solution and handled everything before the deadline even arrived. This could mean Vanessa backed down, or was convinced, or decided the recording wasn't worth the consequences he threatened her with.
Or it could mean the exact opposite.
It could mean things are so far gone that there's nothing left to call about.
I don't know. That's the unbearable part. I genuinely do not know which one it is.
I stand up, straighten my clothes, and go to find him.
His study is the first place I try.
I knock, then wait. No response. I knock again, louder this time and press my ear briefly to the wood and listen for any sound of movement on the other side.
But there's nothing.
I try the kitchen next. Then the dining room. Then the long hallway that leads to the formal sitting room that nobody ever actually sits in. I check every room I know, moving through the penthouse quickly and quietly.
But he's not here.
Where did he go? When did he leave? Did he go to find Vanessa? Did something happen? Did someone call him? Is he at the courthouse right now, or at a lawyer's office, or—
"He's not here."
I spin around.
Mrs. Michael is standing a few feet behind me in the hallway. She's impeccably dressed as always, a small cup of tea held in one hand. She's watching me with those sharp eyes that remind me so much of Caius's.
"You're looking for Caius," she says.
"Yes," I say, smoothing my expression quickly. "Do you know where he went? Did he say anything before he left?"
"I'm afraid not," she says, taking a small sip of her tea.
I press my lips together.
"He didn't leave a note," Mrs. Michael continues. "Or at least not one that anyone has found." She pauses, studying me over the rim of her cup. "He's your husband, dear. Have you tried calling him?"
The word husband still sounds wrong to my ears.
"Yes," I say, which is a lie. "He hasn't picked up."
She nods slowly, and I can't tell if she believes me or not. With Mrs. Michael, I can never tell. She has the same ability her son has to keep her thoughts completely invisible when she wants to.
"He'll surface when he's ready," she says simply. "Caius always does."
I want to say that we don't have time for him to surface when he's ready. I want to say that there's a deadline that may have already passed and a recording that could destroy everything and a social worker who could walk through that door at any moment with court documents and I have absolutely no idea what state any of it is in.
But I can't say any of that.
Because if Mrs. Michael finds out what I did or what I said to Vanessa, what I handed over without even realizing I was doing it, she won't just be standing here calmly drinking tea.
I think about what she said to me the night I arrived. 'If you screw things up and my grandson is taken away, I will destroy you. Completely and utterly.'
She meant it then.
So I press my lips together and I nod and I say nothing.
I turn to walk away when her voice stops me.
"Leo asked after you," she says. "He woke up from his nap and the first thing he said was your name. I told him you were resting."
I stop walking.
"He's asleep again now," she adds. "But I thought you should know."
"Thank you," I say quietly. "I'll go check on him."
I feel her eyes on my back as I walk away down the hall.
~~
Leo's room is dim when I push the door open.
The curtains are half drawn, letting in just enough of the gray afternoon light to see by.
Leo is curled up in the center of his bed, one arm wrapped around the stuffed elephant that lives on his pillow, his dark hair fanned out against the white sheets. His mouth is slightly open.
I stand in the doorway for a long moment and just look at him.
This little boy who lost everything and somehow, against all odds, started finding his way back. Who went from seven months of complete silence to asking for me by name when he woke up from his nap.
I press my hand flat against the doorframe to steady myself.
Whatever happens with Caius, whatever Vanessa has done or not done, whatever Catherine decides and whatever the court rules and whatever the fallout turns out to be, none of it is this child's fault. None of it should touch him.
He has already lost too much.
I slip quietly into the room and sit down in the small chair beside his bed.
I sit there in the quiet and I watch him sleep and I try to make myself breathe normally.
My phone is in my hand. I've been checking it every few minutes since I woke up, a reflex I can't seem to stop. Every time the screen lights up my heart skips a beat.
But it's always nothing. A news alert. A promotional email. The world going about its business completely indifferent to mine.
Caius still hasn't called.
Vanessa still hasn't sent anything.
Catherine Gerald's name has not appeared on my screen.
This silence is the worst thing I have ever experienced.
Leo stirs slightly in his sleep. His small hand opens and closes once, like he's reaching for something in a dream. Then he settles again.
I watch him quietly until suddenly, the quiet house stops being quiet.
The sound of a car driving in is heard and I run to the window to check. Someone steps out and my blood runs cold on seeing who.
Vanessa.