Chương 2 - A Quiet Doorway and a Shaking Hand
The taxi ride back to our apartment had been conducted in absolute silence. Lily had fallen asleep against my shoulder, her thumb hooked gently in her mouth while her other arm remained wrapped securely around Pip’s stuffed neck. Now, inside the dim, narrow hallway of our second-floor apartment, the frantic pounding of my heart sounded louder than the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
I set our small canvas tote bag on the entryway table and carefully untied Lily’s floral dress, slipping her into soft cotton pajamas before tucking her into her small bed. She didn't stir, exhausted by the strange afternoon beneath the crystal chandeliers. I pulled the blanket up to her chin, kissed her forehead, and walked softly back to the living room, letting the door to her bedroom cracked an inch.
My phone sat on the coffee table beside a half-empty mug of cold tea. It hadn't rung once during the cab ride, but that didn't bring me comfort. Julian Sterling was a man who didn't let loose threads dangle. If he had my face, my name from the hotel registry, or even just the memory of six-year-old eyes that mirrored his own, it was only a matter of time before he found this address.
When the sharp, double rap sounded against the front door, I didn't jump. Deep down, I think I had been standing beside the wood-framed entranceway waiting for it since we stepped through the lobby revolving doors.
I walked across the worn carpet, my hand hovering over the cold brass doorknob for three slow beats before I turned it and pulled the door open six inches. The chain remained fastened.
Julian stood in the dim, flickering fluorescent light of the apartment corridor. He had removed his suit jacket, carrying it folded over his forearm, and his black shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. He looked tired, the hard edges of his jaw softened by a strange, bewildered vulnerability that made my chest ache in spite of everything.
"You didn't leave a forwarding address with the front desk," he said, his voice low and hoarse, entirely stripped of its boardroom authority.
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"This is our home, Julian," I replied, my voice shaking despite my best efforts to keep it flat and steady. "And we aren't part of your world."
"How old is she?" he asked, ignoring my warning, his eyes searching the dark space behind my shoulder as if he could see through the apartment walls straight to Lily's bedroom. "Elena. Tell me the truth."
