“For the possibility that you already know the answer.”
I said nothing.
He packed his bag. At the door, he paused. “Whatever else is happening, don’t let your enemies learn they’re here.”
“I know.”
“No,” he said, turning back. “I don’t think you do. You protect assets. Territory. Secrets. These are children. That kind of protection is different.”
After he left, Claire returned with the security footage on a tablet.
“There’s a problem,” she said.
There was always a problem.
She placed the tablet on my desk and played the lobby feed.
At 5:12 a.m., the front doors opened. A gray-haired woman entered, holding the boys by their hands. She wore a navy coat and a blue scarf printed with white birds. Her posture was straight, her face turned slightly away from the camera.
The boys looked half-asleep.
The woman spoke to one of the overnight guards, who leaned down to hear Liam say something. Then the guard stepped away, clearly calling someone through his earpiece.
In that brief moment, the woman bent and kissed both boys on the forehead.
Then she walked out.
“Pause,” I said.
Claire froze the image as the woman turned toward the doors.
“Zoom in.”
The picture sharpened as much as it could.
Something in my chest tightened.
I knew that face.
Not well. Not as someone from my world.
From Emma’s.
“Her name is Margaret Vale,” I said.
Claire looked surprised. “You know her?”
“She was Emma’s neighbor.”
Years ago, when Emma and I were still impossible enough to pretend we could work, Margaret had lived across the hall. A widow with silver hair, bird scarves, and a habit of watering plants outside her door. She had never liked me. Not fearfully. Not dramatically. She had simply looked at me once and decided I brought shadows wherever I went.
“She disappeared from the lobby,” Claire said.
“Find her.”
“We tried tracing the car. Street cameras caught a dark sedan, but the plates were covered by road grime. Not fake. Just obscured.”
“Convenient.”
“Yes.”
“Where was Emma living?”
Claire’s silence answered before she did. “We’re checking.”
I looked up sharply.
She held my gaze. “Jason, there are dozens of Emma Harts in the region. The address we had on file from years ago is empty. She left no forwarding information. No bank activity under that name in our usual channels.”
“Our usual channels don’t cover women who don’t want to be found.”
“No,” Claire said. “They don’t.”
A sound from the sofa stopped me.
Lucas had fallen asleep sitting upright, his head tipped against Liam’s shoulder. Liam was trying to stay awake, blinking hard, one arm around his brother.
The sight rearranged something in me.
“Get them a room,” I said.
Claire hesitated. “Here?”
“No. My residence.”
Her expression shifted, just slightly.
My residence occupied the top three floors of Emerald Tower, above the office levels. Few people had ever been invited there. Fewer had stayed. It was not a home as much as a fortress with expensive furniture.
“They need beds,” I said.
Claire nodded. “I’ll have the guest suite prepared.”
“No staff gossip.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“You’ll do more than handle it. Anyone who speaks of them outside this building answers to me.”
The words came out cold, familiar.
Liam heard them.
His eyes lifted to mine.
I regretted it instantly.
Not because the warning was unnecessary, but because his face changed. He did not look reassured. He looked like a child measuring the danger of the man who claimed he would keep him safe.
So I tried again.
“Only people we trust will know you’re here,” I said to him.
“Mommy said trust is hard,” Liam murmured.
“She was right.”
“Do you trust people?”
The honest answer was no.
But this morning was already full of impossible things.
“I trust Claire,” I said.
Claire, standing near the desk, looked down as if I had handed her something fragile.
Liam seemed to accept this. He gently shook Lucas awake, and Claire led them toward the private elevator.
Before the doors closed, Lucas looked back.
“Are you coming?”
The question was simple. It should have been easy.
I had meetings. Calls. Men waiting for orders. A city of moving pieces balanced on my word.
“Yes,” I said.