Chapter 5 - THE TIGHTENING NET
By 8:00 AM the following morning, the sun broke over the snow-dusted hills of Westchester County, casting a crisp, blinding light across the estate.
In the formal dining room, the girls were sitting at the long oak table, eating warm waffles drizzled with maple syrup. June was animatedly demonstrating how to make a waffle sandwich, while Lena and Laya laughed, their faces bright and completely blissfully unaware of the war being waged in the shadows to protect them.
I stood near the French doors, a cup of black coffee in my hand, watching them with an intensity that burned in my chest.
My phone rang. It was Special Agent Marcus Cole of the FBI's New York Field Office.
"Mr. Wakefield," Agent Cole said, his voice deep and authoritative. "We’ve reviewed the financial wire transfers provided by your security team, as well as the testimony from Frank Miller. We have a federal grand jury assembled in Manhattan right now issuing subpoenas for Apex Global Capital’s domestic accounts."
"What about Richard Vance?" I asked flatly.
"Vance is currently at his penthouse on Park Avenue," Cole reported. "He knows the net is closing. His legal team has already reached out to the US Attorney's office trying to negotiate a proffer agreement."
"And Derek Morrison?"
"Morrison is panicked," Cole said grimly. "We tracked his vehicle to a warehouse district near the Brooklyn Navy Yard. He knows Vance is cutting him loose. Our tactical team is setting up a perimeter around the site now."
"He's going to try to run," I observed.
"He won't get far, Nolan," Cole promised. "We have every airport, train station, and bridge under surveillance."
I hung up the phone, set my coffee cup down on the side table, and turned toward the dining room.
Evelyn, Mrs. Gable’s daughter and a certified child psychologist I had hired to assist with the girls' transition, walked into the room carrying a stack of fresh watercolors and paper.
"Nolan," Evelyn said softly, stepping closer to me so the girls couldn't hear. "Lena asked me something unusual this morning while we were setting the table."
"What did she ask?" I inquired, my heart sinking slightly.
"She asked if she needed to keep her small bag packed under her bed," Evelyn revealed, her eyes filled with gentle empathy. "She said she saw the big steel shutters on the windows last night, and she wanted to make sure she was ready if we had to leave."
I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, feeling a wave of profound sorrow crush my chest. No matter how much money I possessed, no matter how many security guards I hired, the psychological scars of five years of neglect could not be erased overnight.
I walked into the dining room, pulled up a chair beside Lena, and sat down.
I gently reached under her chair, pulled out the small, worn canvas backpack she had kept hidden near the chair leg, and set it on the table between her waffle plate and her juice glass.
Lena froze, her small hands clutching her fork, her dark eyes looking up at me with sudden, heart-wrenching panic.
"Is... is it time to go, Nolan?" Lena whispered, her voice barely audible.
June stopped chewing, looking between us in confusion. Laya pulled her plush rabbit closer to her chest.
I took both of Lena's small, trembling hands in mine, looking straight into her eyes with an unshakeable, fierce warmth.
"No, Lena," I said softly, but with a conviction that resonated through the entire room. "It is never time to go. You are never leaving this house. Do you know why?"
Lena shook her head slowly, a tear brimming in her left eye.
I reached over, unzipped the small backpack, pulled out her spare shirt, and gently set the empty bag aside.
"Because a family isn't a hotel, Lena," I told her, wiping the stray tear from her cheek with my thumb. "You don't pack your bag when the wind blows hard outside. This house was built on rock, and as long as I am breathing, nobody—nobody—will ever make you leave it."
Lena looked at the empty backpack, then at her sister Laya, and finally at June, who reached over and wrapped her arm around Lena’s shoulders.
May you like
"See?" June said with supreme, childhood confidence. "I told you, Lena. My daddy doesn't break promises."
For the first time since the night I had found them freezing on that sidewalk, Lena let out a deep, chest-clearing sigh, leaned her head against my arm, and let go of the past.
