Chapter 5 - The Unannounced Return
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“I am taking my daughter right now,” I told Lincoln, my voice dripping with steel. “I’m taking her to Beatrice’s mother. Then we get her blood tested.”
“Smart,” Lincoln agreed. “I’ll stay on your network and monitor the live feeds. If Pamela tries to destroy evidence, I’ll capture it all remotely.”
At 1:20 PM—exactly two hours after I was supposed to have boarded a plane to Minneapolis—I walked up the front steps of my home and unlocked the front door.
The house was quiet.
I walked into the kitchen. Pamela was standing at the counter, wearing a beige trench coat and holding her purse, clearly preparing to leave for an afternoon outing.
When she heard my footsteps, she spun around, her eyes widening in genuine shock. The purse in her hand slipped an inch before she caught herself.
“Gregory?” she gasped, her voice tightening. “What... what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Minnesota!”
“My meeting was postponed,” I lied smoothly, keeping my hands in my pockets so she wouldn't see them clenched into fists. “The client had an emergency. So I turned around at the airport.”
Pamela forced a quick, nervous smile, though her chest was heaving slightly. “Oh! Well... that’s a surprise. I was just about to take Matilda out for lunch and run some errands.”
“No need,” I said, looking her straight in the eye. “I promised Henrietta I’d bring Matilda over to spend the afternoon with her. She hasn't seen her grandmother in weeks.”
Pamela’s smile vanished, replaced by a subtle, sharp tension around her eyes. “She has homework, Gregory. And you know how changing her routine usually makes her behavior worse. She’s been very fragile lately.”
“She’ll be fine,” I said coldly.
I turned toward the stairs and called out, “Matilda! Get your backpack, sweetheart. You’re coming with Daddy.”
Within seconds, Matilda came running down the stairs, her backpack already slung over her shoulders as if she had been waiting by her bedroom door the entire time. She ran past Pamela without looking at her and gripped my hand tightly.
“Let’s go, Daddy,” Matilda said.
May you like
Pamela took a step forward, her voice rising slightly. “Gregory, really, I don't think this is a good idea—”
“I don't care what you think, Pamela,” I interrupted, staring at her with an intensity that made her pause. “We’re leaving.”
