“He’s cold,” Jonathan said softly. “And hungry. You are too.”
“I’m fine.”
“You can hold him the whole time,” he said. “I won’t touch him. But I have heat in my car. Blankets. A doctor.”
She hesitated, eyes flicking to the Bentley.
After a long moment, she stood. Still clutching the baby—Benny, she later said—she walked toward the car like someone stepping into a trap.
Inside the townhouse, everything felt colder than usual. The marble floors gleamed. The chandeliers reflected empty light.
The girl refused baths, new clothes, and the concerned hands of housekeepers. She sat on the floor with Benny in her arms, watching every doorway.
Dr. Samuel Carter arrived quickly. One look at the baby and his face tightened.
“Severe dehydration. Early pneumonia,” he murmured to Jonathan. “He needs hospital care. And you need to notify Child Protective Services.”
“If they go into the system, they’ll be separated,” Jonathan said fiercely. “I won’t let that happen.”
“You can’t just keep them.”
“I can provide everything they need.”
He turned the sealed nursery into a medical room overnight. Nurses rotated shifts. Equipment was delivered. But the girl—her name was Lucy—slept on the floor beside the crib. She only ate bread, hiding extra pieces under her pillow.
On the third day, Benny’s fever broke.
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows. Lucy stood before an expensive abstract painting in the library.
“It looks like fire,” she said quietly.
Jonathan sat nearby. “Where are your parents, Lucy?”
“Mama went to the hospital with a cough. She didn’t come back. Elena kept us until the men took everything. She said wait by the crane.”
“How long?”
“Many rains.”
Jonathan felt sick. While he debated mergers and acquisitions, she had been counting storms.
“You don’t have to wait anymore,” he said gently.
“She promised,” Lucy insisted.
He didn’t argue.
Weeks passed. Jonathan ignored his company. His assistant, David Collins, called constantly.
“The board is furious. The merger—”
“Sell my shares,” Jonathan said one afternoon, watching Lucy step cautiously into the backyard with Benny strapped against her chest.
“Sir?”
“Liquidate everything.”
When state officials finally arrived with an order to remove the children, Lucy stood at the top of the stairs, clutching Benny.
“Don’t let them,” she whispered.