Chapter 1 - The Threshold of Reality
Rosa stepped back, opening the screen door to let Ethan into her home.
The small bungalow smelled of roasting chicken, garlic, and fresh baking dough—a stark contrast to the sterile, lemon-scented air of Ethan’s six-million-dollar mansion.
Ethan stepped into the entry hall. On a small wooden table rested a framed photo of his late wife, Claire, holding newborn Lily. Beside it sat Noah’s drawing notebook and Lily’s battered pink blanket, carefully folded.
"Daddy?"
Ethan whirled around.
Standing in the hallway was eight-year-old Noah. He wore a slightly faded t-shirt and held a wooden spoon. Five-year-old Lily peeked from behind his legs, her face smeared with flour.
"Noah... Lily..." Ethan choked out, dropping to his knees. "My babies."
He reached out his arms, expecting them to sprint across the floor as they always used to. But neither child moved.
Noah stepped in front of Lily, his posture rigid, his small eyes full of mistrust.
"Did Uncle Daniel send you to take us back?" Noah asked, his voice trembling slightly.
The words felt like a physical blow to Ethan’s chest. "What? No! I just came back from my trip. I came to take you home."
Lily tightened her grip on Noah’s shirt. "We don't want to go to the big house," she whispered softly. "It's cold there. And Uncle Daniel yells when we cry."
Ethan stared at his children, horror slowly washing over him. "He... he yelled at you?"
Rosa walked over, setting a hand gently on Noah’s shoulder. "Noah, sweetie, take your sister to the kitchen to finish the biscuits. Let me speak with your father."
Noah hesitated, glaring at Ethan for a long second before turning and leading Lily away.
May you like
Ethan stood up, his legs shaking. "Rosa... what happened while I was away? Tell me everything."
Rosa looked at him with steady, unapologetic eyes. "Your brother didn't just cut their expenses, Mr. Caldwell. He fired the nanny, kicked them out of their rooms to make space for his friends, and told them they were a financial burden to you."
