Chapter 2 - The Ringing of the Vipers
I let the phone ring until the screen went dark, but the silence that followed was heavy with impending danger. Arthur Pendelton stepped toward the window, subtly parting the plastic blinds to look down at the street below.
"They are already monitoring the building," Arthur said quietly. "Thomas Westbrook has local law enforcement in his pocket. He's trying to use your own parents to pressure you into handing Noah over before we can file the inheritance reinstatement papers in federal court."
"My parents?" I asked, a sick feeling blooming in my stomach. "What do my parents have to do with the Westbrooks?"
Arthur turned back to face me, a grim expression on his face. "Your father’s mid-sized accounting firm has been handling the local shell companies for the Westbrook Group for a decade, Emily. Your parents didn't just happen to throw you out because they disliked Noah’s disability. They did it because your mother received a frantic phone call from Thomas Westbrook’s assistants the night before. They realized your pending adoption file matched the DNA profile of the missing Westbrook heir. Your parents were ordered to stop you from finalizing that paperwork to protect your father's biggest client."
The betrayal cut deeper than any physical blade could have. The screaming match at Christmas dinner, the cruel words about my inability to care for myself, the disgusted look on my father’s face—it hadn't been about my capability as a mother. It had been a business transaction. They were willing to condemn a traumatized, silent child to a life of institutional isolation just to secure an accounting contract and stay in the good graces of a corrupt politician.
Noah tugged gently on the sleeve of my oversized sweater. He held up his notebook. On the crisp white page, he had drawn a massive, terrifying black shadow looming over a small yellow house. But inside the house, he had drawn two stick figures holding hands—one with long hair, and one small boy.
May you like
He was terrified, but he trusted me to hold the line.
"We aren't going to the manor," I said, looking up at Arthur with a sudden, fierce resolve. "And we aren't giving him up. What’s the next move?"
