Part 16:
Daniel wanted to reach across the space between them to acknowledge what was building beneath the professional relationship, but the sound of children’s laughter from the living room reminded him of all the reasons he couldn’t. Tomorrow, he said instead, “We feed Miranda information about a security system upgrade scheduled for Friday night.
Make it seem like the R&D facility will be vulnerable during the transition, and when they come, I’ll be waiting.” Clara looked like she wanted to argue, but her phone buzzed with an incoming message. She glanced at it, frowning. Speaking of tomorrow, there’s something else. The board is calling an emergency meeting. Wright’s been stirring up concerns about the security changes. He’s moving fast.
Too fast. It feels like desperation. Maybe because he knows we’re on to him. Daniel stood suddenly aware of how late it had gotten. I should get Ethan home. Stay. The word seemed to surprise them both. Clara flushed slightly. I mean, it’s late and the kids are having fun. We have guest rooms, plenty of space.
Clara, as friends, or as security consultant and client if that makes you more comfortable, but it’s nice having another adult here, having the kids play together. It feels normal. I was going to say real. Daniel understood. The mansion could feel like a beautiful prison. All that space emphasizing absence rather than presence.
His apartment was cramped and worn, but at least the walls were close enough to hear Ethan breathing at night. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll stay.” Clara’s smile transformed her face. Years of corporate armor falling away. “I’ll get the guest room ready.” They found the children asleep on the couch, the movie still playing.
Ethan was curled against one corner, Lily against the other. George the Grasshopper’s jar sitting empty between them with a note and crayon. We let him go early so he could find his family. E and L. “They’re good kids,” Clara whispered. “Yeah, they are.” They carried the children upstairs. Daniel following Clara through hallways lined with family photos, Lily as a baby.
Clara’s wedding, he tried not to look too closely at that one generations of Donovans who’d built the fortune Clara now commanded. The guest room was bigger than Daniel’s entire apartment with a bathroom that belonged in a hotel. Ethan stirred slightly as Daniel tucked him in, mumbling something about electromagnets before settling back into sleep.
“There are clothes in the dresser,” Clara said from the doorway. “My ex left them should fit well enough.” “Thank you, Daniel.” She paused silhouetted in the hallway light. what you said about being expendable. Promise me you won’t do anything stupidly heroic. I can’t promise that. Why not? Because protecting people is what I do.
It’s who I am. You knew that when you hired me. She was quiet for a long moment. Yes, I did. After she left, Daniel sat in the unfamiliar luxury of the guest room, listening to the house settle around him. Somewhere down the hall, Clara was probably lying awake, too, running through scenarios and contingencies. They were similar that way, both incapable of turning off the vigilance that kept their children safe.
His phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number. You’re making a mistake. Daniel’s blood chilled. He typed back, “Who is this?” Someone who knows what you’re walking into. Donovan Tech isn’t the target. Clara is. Why should I trust you? Because I know about Sarah, about the medical bills, about how desperately you need this job. Walk away, Hayes.
Take your son and disappear. What’s coming isn’t worth dying for. Daniel stared at the message, mind racing. Someone was trying to warn him off, which meant his investigation was hitting close to home. But the mention of Sarah, the implied threat to Ethan that changed things. He forwarded the message to his old army contact Jake with a simple note.
Trace this. Then he did what he’d learned to do in Afghanistan. When surrounded by unknown threats, he prepared for war. Morning came too soon preceded by Ethan bouncing on the guest bed with enthusiasm that suggested he’d forgotten they weren’t at home. Dad Dad Lily’s mom made pancakes, real ones, not from a box.
Daniel caught his son mid bounce. Easy, buddy. Remember, we’re guests here. Lily says we can come back next Sunday. Can we? The hope in his son’s voice was heartbreaking. How long since Ethan had a friend his own age? How long since they’d had a morning that felt like a family? We’ll see. They found Clara and Lily in the kitchen, still in pajamas, flower dusting every surface.
Lily was standing on a stool, carefully pouring batter onto a griddle while Clara supervised. Ethan, I’m making butterfly pancakes. See you make circles, then add smaller circles for wings. That’s so cool. Can I try?” Daniel met Clara’s eyes over the children’s heads. She looked softer in the morning light, younger, like the woman she might have been if life had taken different turns.
“Sleep well?” she asked. “Well enough,” he showed her his phone, the threatening message still on the screen, her expression tightened, but she kept her voice light for the children’s sake. “Interesting. We should discuss that over coffee.” They maintained the pretense of a normal morning while the children made increasingly elaborate pancake shapes.
