“That doesn’t mean every death is connected to a secret.”
“No. But it means he knew how to find them.”
She watched me carefully. “You’re not a detective.”
“No. I hire them.”
“Within the law.”
I closed the folder. “Within the law.”
Elise softened then, just slightly.
“I know what this is doing to you.”
“You don’t.”
“I know enough.”
I walked to the window.
My father had left too.
Not at an airport. Not on a bench. Not with the clean cruelty of walking onto a plane.
He had left by degrees.
A missed dinner.
A forgotten birthday.
A promise postponed.
A door closed at the end of a hallway while my mother cried quietly in the kitchen.
Then one day, he
was simply gone, and everyone expected me to become a man at twelve because somebody had to.
I had built an empire partly because I never wanted to need anyone again.
And then two five-year-olds had sat under fluorescent lights at Gate 17 and undone me with silence.
“Elise,” I said, still facing the city, “what happens next?”
“Temporary placement. Investigation. A shelter hearing. The court decides whether the children can return to Claire, go to relatives, or remain in care while things are sorted.”
“And if no relatives are suitable?”
“Then longer-term foster placement, guardianship possibilities, eventually other options.”
“Could I—”
“No.”
I turned.
She held up a hand. “Not no forever. No to whatever reckless thought just crossed your face. You are not a relative. You have no relationship with the children beyond today. You travel constantly. You live alone. Your public reputation is complicated. Your private reputation
is worse.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m your attorney, not your admirer.”
“I could change my schedule.”
“That is not a parenting plan.”
“I have space.”
“A penthouse is not a home.”
That landed harder than I expected.
Elise saw it and lowered her voice. “Ryker, helping them is possible. But do not confuse rescue with attachment. Children need consistency. They need adults who show up after the dramatic moment is over.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
There it was again.
The same question.
This time I did not answer quickly.
Because the truth was, I knew how to acquire companies, intimidate rivals, read contracts, calculate risk. I knew how to survive betrayal. I knew how to turn weakness into reputation.
I did not know bedtime stories.
I did not know school forms.
I did not know what five-year-olds ate when no one was trying to impress anyone.
But I knew this.
“I
want to learn,” I said.
Elise’s expression changed.
For the first time all night, she seemed afraid for me.
The next morning began with coffee gone cold and phone calls that led to more phone calls.
Maya updated Elise first, then me, because boundaries mattered.
The children had slept poorly but safely. Lily woke twice. Owen refused to let go of Captain long enough to brush his teeth until the foster mother promised the bear could sit on the sink and supervise.
