Chapter 7: Midnight Shadows
The grand foyer was dark except for the amber glow of the security console. As I guided Malik and Julian inside, the heavy oak front door clicked shut behind us, sealing us off from the rain but not from the storm brewing inside my life. I led Malik to the guest suite on the main floor—a room with high ceilings, crisp white linens, and an attached marble bathroom that felt absurdly lavish for a boy who had spent the evening under a highway bridge.
"You can take a hot shower, Malik. There are some clothes of Julian's in the closet that should fit you," I instructed, laying out a plush towel. He nodded mutely, stepping into the room as if expecting it to vanish like a mirage.
When I stepped back into the hallway, Julian was waiting for me, his little arms crossed over his neat blue suit jacket. "Is he going to live with us now?"
"We need to figure things out, sweetie," I said, kneeling down to look him in the eye. "It’s not as simple as just bringing someone home. There are legal things, and... people who won't understand."
"People like Richard?" Julian asked, tilting his head.
Before I could answer, the sharp, authoritative ring of the doorbell cut through the quiet house. My stomach dropped. I looked at the grandfather clock near the stairs; it was past midnight. No delivery service or neighbor would be knocking at this hour.
"Stay here, Julian," I whispered, rising quickly and smoothing down my skirt.
I walked back toward the foyer, my heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor. Through the frosted glass panels of the front door, I could make out the unmistakable silhouette of a tall, imposing figure. I unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open.
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Richard Vance stood on the porch, drenched from the rain, his expression a mixture of profound exhaustion and cold fury. Behind him in the driveway, his dark sedan idled with its headlights cutting through the misty night.
"Evelyn," Richard said, stepping past me into the house without an invitation, shedding his wet umbrella onto the Persian rug. "Do you have any idea what kind of disaster you walked out of tonight? The press is calling every board member we have."
