I glanced at Adrian and said, “I assume tests are part of the routine here.”
He didn’t answer.
I held up the plush dinosaur and looked back at the boys. “I’ll bring him back upstairs in ten minutes—after your father and I finish.”
Luke’s hands loosened on the railing.
Noah whispered something to Caleb.
Evan just stared, distrust still written across his face, but no longer certainty.
I turned to face Adrian, still holding the dinosaur, my voice steady.
“You asked why I took this job. I’ll tell you after I meet them properly.”
His jaw tightened.
“They don’t make it easy.”
I didn’t look away.
“Good kids rarely do.”
The weight of that answer hung in the air.
Adrian’s expression froze, unreadable.
The four boys stood silent above us.
And I realized something I hadn’t expected.
This wasn’t just about surviving three days.
This was about what would happen when they found out why I was really there.
Adrian’s eyes stayed on me for one second longer than comfortable.
Then he turned toward the staircase and said, “Ten minutes. My office.”
He walked away without waiting for confirmation.
The four boys scattered like smoke.
I stood alone in the foyer holding a stuffed dinosaur, my pulse still hammering in my chest, my sister’s MRI images burned into the back of my mind.
Three days. Seventy-two hours. Then the agency would release the payment and I could get Maya into surgery before her condition worsened.
I just had to make it through.
I climbed the stairs slowly, letting my footsteps announce me. The second-floor hallway stretched wide, lined with closed doors and framed photos I didn’t have time to examine. At the far end, one door stood slightly ajar.
I knocked lightly.
No answer.
I pushed it open.
Four pairs of eyes turned toward me.
