Chapter 3 - The Shadow of the Estate
We didn't take coats. We didn't take bags.
I grabbed my battered leather purse, shoved my entire life savings—three hundred and forty-two dollars in cash—into my jacket pocket, and grabbed Mikey’s hand. We slipped out through the narrow fire escape attached to the back of the building, descending the metal stairs just as heavy, synchronized thuds echoed down the hallway of my floor.
They weren't knocking anymore. They were kicking the door in.
We ran through the freezing November drizzle, ducking into the labyrinth of subway tunnels two blocks away. The air down there smelled of damp concrete, exhaust, and stale popcorn, but it was a sanctuary compared to the apartment we had just abandoned.
We sat on a bench near the back of a crowded, rumbling northbound train, trying to look invisible. Mikey pressed his head against my shoulder, shivering slightly in my oversized hoodie.
“Who are they, Mikey?” I whispered, keeping my mouth close to his ear as the train shrieked along the tracks. “Why are men like that looking for you?”
Mikey kept his gaze fixed on the dirty floor between his sneakers. For a long time, he didn't speak. The train rattled through the dark tunnels, the flickering fluorescent lights casting shadows across his pale face.
“My dad,” Mikey whispered finally, his voice shaking. “He... he doesn't let anyone leave. When my mom left, she tried to take me. Men in black coats brought me back before we even reached the highway. After that, the gates went up. The guards came. The tutors didn't leave until sunset.”
My chest tightened. “And why did you run away today?”
“Because of the room,” Mikey muttered, a tear finally escaping and tracking down his dirty cheek. “Dad locked away all her things. Her paintings, her books, her piano. Today, the locks were off. I went inside... and I found a letter she wrote before she died. She said she was trapped. She said my dad was the reason she couldn't breathe.”
He looked up at me, his dark eyes brimming with a desperate, heartbreaking maturity.
“I didn't want to be trapped there anymore, Clara. But when I got outside the gates, I didn't know where to go. Then I saw the sign for your diner.”
I pulled him closer, wrapping my arms around his small frame. I had thought I was just feeding a hungry kid behind a restaurant. Now, I realized I had stepped right into the middle of a war between a grieving, terrifying billionaire and a son who wanted nothing to do with a gilded cage.
“We’re going to figure this out, Mikey,” I promised, though I had no idea how. “I won't let them take you back to a place like that.”
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Little did I know, Alexander Cross didn't need to find us.
He was already waiting at the end of the line.
