And the worst part?
I only have myself to blame.
Chapter 14
Noah
I'msittingatRika'skitchen table, staring at a mug of coffee that went cold long ago, like everything else in my life for the past two days.
Rika hasn't even glanced my way since Mitchell showed up at her house and dropped the kids like unwanted luggage. I've replayed the whole fiasco in my mind on a loop, trying to figure out what I should have done differently.
I'm still replaying it, since Rika ignored all my texts that didn't pertain to the kids. Even then, she answered in clipped, single-sentence responses.
She shut me out like a door in my face.
I scrub a hand over my face and lean back in the chair, the wood creaking under my weight. The house is unnaturally still. I can hear Matthew in the living room, or rather, I notice the absence of Matthew's usual noise. No robot sound effects, no video game music, no footsteps thundering across the hardwood as he races imaginary bad guys.
Just a silence that presses and oppresses.
My chest aches with it. The whole place feels like it's holding its breath under an invisible weight.
I finally push the mug away and stand, rolling my shoulders to release the tension that's taken up permanent residence there. Time to check on Matthew again.
I walk into the living room and find him exactly where I left him twenty minutes ago: curled on the window seat, knees pulled to his chest, Mr. Gears clutched in one hand, staring out at the driveway with a blank, thousand-yard stare that no seven-year-old should have.
His wings hang limp against his back, the tips dragging on the cushion. The afternoon light slants through the window, painting gold bars across his small body.
"Hey, buddy." I keep my voice gentle as I sink down beside him on the window seat. "You hungry? I could make us some grilled cheese. Extra crispy, just how you like it."
"No, thanks," Matthew says without looking at me.
I try again, shifting tactics. "Want to show me what you're working on with your robot kit? I bet we could build something cool together. Maybe a robot that shoots lasers? Or one that makes pancakes?"
"No, thanks," Matthew repeats, his gaze still fixed outside.
Time will heal this, I know, but right now, I'd give anything to make him feel safe again. Poor kid has been through too much.
I rest a hand on his shoulder, feeling him tense beneath my palm. My heart cracks a little more.
My phone rings, slicing through the moment. I pick it up, see Saltford Dance Academy on the caller ID, and my stomach drops like a stone.
I answer immediately. "This is Noah Mercer."
"Mr. Mercer, there's been an incident with Zoe." Ms. Langford's voice is brisk, controlled, but I can hear the edge under it. "We need a parent or guardian here immediately."
My pulse spikes, adrenaline flooding my system. "What kind of incident? Is Zoe hurt?"
There's a pause just long enough to make my heart slam against my ribs.
"Zoe is fine, but there was an altercation with another student during class. Zoe hit the other student and will need to be removed from the class until I can sort things out with her mother."
Fuck.
I expected more outbursts from Zoe eventually, especially with how quiet she's been since the driveway incident. The girl is a pressure cooker. Sooner or later, something was going to blow. I just didn't think it would be at the one place she usually feels in control.
I'm already moving toward the door, my free hand reaching for my keys.
"I'm on my way. I'll be there in ten minutes."
