Chapter 5 - The Senator's Arrival-5
The heavy thud of footsteps echoed across the wooden porch steps.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound wasn't hesitant like mine had been. It was heavy, deliberate, and authoritative—the knock of a man who owned the wood, the door, and the people living inside the house.
"Arthur," a deep, smooth voice boomed from the other side of the door. "Open the door, Arthur. I know she's in there."
Eleanor let out a small, terrified squeak, backing up into the kitchen doorway. Arthur stood frozen in the middle of the living room, sweating profusely, looking back and forth between the front door and me like a trapped animal.
"Dad," I said, my voice dead calm. "Open the door."
"Emma, you don't understand what he's capable of!" Arthur hissed in a violent whisper. "If he sees Leo... if he realizes who Leo is—"
"I said, open the door," I commanded. "I'm done running."
Arthur, shaking so hard he could barely operate the lock, slowly turned the brass knob and pulled the door open.
Standing on the porch was Senator Thomas Vance.
At seventy years old, Thomas Vance looked like a man sculpted out of polished granite. He wore a perfectly tailored dark navy suit, a silver tie, and an expensive wool overcoat. His silver hair was slicked back flawlessly, and his sharp, grey eyes scanned the interior of the house with cold, calculated efficiency. Behind him stood two tall, muscular men in dark suits—his private security detail.
"Thomas," Arthur stammered, stepping back to let him in. "It's... it's late. What are you doing here?"
Thomas Vance didn't bother answering Arthur. He walked into the living room, taking off his leather gloves one finger at a time. His eyes swept across Eleanor, brushed past Arthur, and finally landed on me.
"Emma," Thomas said, his voice rich and full of fake warmth. "It has been a very long time. Ten years, isn't it? We all wondered where you vanished to after your... sudden departure."
"Senator Vance," I said coldly, placing myself directly between him and the couch where Leo was sitting.
Thomas smiled—a sharp, cold flash of white teeth—and stepped closer. But as he moved, his eyes caught a glimpse of the boy sitting behind me.
He froze.
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The fake, politician's smile melted off Thomas Vance’s face instantly. His sharp grey eyes locked onto Leo's face. He looked at the copper-red hair. He looked at the high cheekbones. And then, as Leo looked up, Thomas caught the bright, striking flash of those rare, violet-blue eyes.
The silver gloves slipped from Thomas Vance’s hand, hitting the floor without a sound.
