Chapter 3 - The Cage of Gold
By the next morning, Clare had moved the twins to her private estate in Bel-Air. The massive mansion, which had felt like a hollow tomb for six years, was suddenly alive with activity.
Clare had hired an entire team of pediatric specialists, child psychologists, and specialized tutors. But for now, none of that mattered. All that mattered was making the two little girls feel safe.
The sun was shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the grand master suite. Lily and Rose were sitting on a plush, velvet sofa that was larger than the tent they had slept in for most of their lives. They were wearing soft, silk pajamas, and their scrubbed skin smelled of gentle chamomile soap.
Despite the luxury surrounding them, they sat huddled close together, holding hands tight. On the mahogany coffee table in front of them sat plates of fresh fruit, warm pastries, and silver cups of cocoa. Neither girl had touched a bite.
Clare stepped softly into the room, abandoning her high heels to walk barefoot across the thick carpet. She sat down on the floor near their feet, placing herself below them so she wouldn't look intimidating.
"You don't have to eat if you're not hungry, sweethearts," Clare said softly, offering a warm smile. "And you don't have to stay in this room if you don't like it. Everything in this house is yours."
Lily looked at the plates, then at Clare. Her small forehead creased. "Are we... are we going to jail?"
Clare’s heart slammed against her chest. "Jail? Why on earth would you go to jail, Lily?"
"The man at the bank said bad kids who take things get locked up," Lily said quietly. "And Mama... Mama always said if the police saw us, they would take us away and lock us in cages."
Tears pricked Clare’s eyes, but she forced herself to remain calm and gentle. "Mama was afraid, Lily. She was trying to protect you in her own way, but she was wrong. You did nothing bad. You were taking care of each other. You are the bravest, sweetest girls in the whole world. No one is ever going to take you away. No one is ever going to hurt you again. I promise you this on my life."
Rose shifted, looking at Clare’s warm eyes. She pointed a tiny, clean finger at a framed photograph sitting on the bedside table. It was a photograph of a newborn baby, wrapped in a pink blanket.
"Is that a baby?" Rose asked in a small voice.
"Yes," Clare said, reaching for the frame and holding it out to them. "That is a photo of a baby born six years ago. Her name was Maya."
Lily leaned in to look. "She looks like us."
"She looks like you because she is you," Clare said, her voice shaking with restrained emotion. "Six years ago, someone did a very bad thing. They took you away from me when you were just tiny babies. I have been searching for you every single day, every single hour. I never stopped looking for you."
Lily looked at Clare, her intelligent dark eyes searching the billionaire's face for any sign of lie. "You were looking for us? Even when it rained?"
"Even when it rained," Clare whispered. "Even when it was dark. Even when everyone told me to give up. I never stopped."
Rose slowly slid off the sofa. Her tiny feet brushed the soft rug. She walked over to Clare and timidly rested her head against Clare’s shoulder.
Clare gasped softly, wrapping a gentle arm around the little girl, holding her close, careful not to squeeze too hard. A moment later, Lily slid down as well, wrapping her arms around both of them.
For the first time in six years, Clare felt whole. Her daughters were in her arms.
The quiet moment was shattered by a firm knock on the door. Marcus stood outside the frame, his face dark and urgent.
Clare gave the girls a gentle squeeze. "Stay here and eat some strawberries, okay? I’ll be right back."
She walked out into the corridor and closed the door softly behind her. "What is it, Marcus?"
"Julian Creswell just landed his helicopter at his estate down the street," Marcus reported in a low whisper. "He knows you were at his bank yesterday. His intelligence people told him you picked up two homeless kids. He just placed a call to your assistant, asking to come over for dinner tonight to 'check on you.'"
Clare’s eyes burned with a deadly fire. "He wants to see if I’ve figured it out."
"He’s playing dangerous, Boss," Marcus warned. "Julian controls vast political networks and half the police precinct chiefs in the county. If he realizes those girls are your missing daughters before we have airtight legal proof of his involvement in the abduction, he could use his connections to create a legal nightmare—or worse."
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Clare looked back at the bedroom door where her children were safe inside.
"Let him come," Clare said, her voice dropping into a register of cold, calculated fury. "Invite him to dinner. Set the table for two. It’s time Julian learns what happens when you poke a mother who has nothing left to lose."
