Chapter 2 - Noah Had Clean Clothes Upstairs
Bianca never swung the bat.
The second she raised it, Evelyn shouted Rocco’s name.
That moment of distraction was enough.
Rocco stepped sideways, keeping Noah behind him, and took hold of the bat before Bianca could move closer.
He pulled it from her hands.
Then set it on top of the kitchen island several feet away.
No strike.
No second confrontation.
Just distance.
“Upstairs,” Rocco told Evelyn.
Evelyn understood immediately.
She took Noah gently by the hand.
But the child refused to leave his father.
“No.”
Rocco crouched.
“You’re safe.”
Noah shook his head violently.
“Come too.”
That request destroyed whatever anger Rocco had left.
He went upstairs with him.
The first shock came inside Noah’s bedroom.
The room was beautiful.
Fresh bedding.
Drawers full of clean clothes.
Tiny sweaters.
New sneakers.
Pajamas still folded with store tags attached.
Nothing matched the child Rocco had just found kneeling on the kitchen floor in filthy, torn clothes.
Rocco opened the closet.
More clothes.
More shoes.
Everything Noah needed.
“Why weren’t you wearing these?”
Noah stared toward the door.
“Bianca says no.”
“What do you mean?”
“She put them away.”
Rocco looked at Evelyn.
The housekeeper’s face tightened.
“She started locking his closet three weeks ago.”
Rocco turned.
“What?”
Evelyn lowered her eyes.
“She said you wanted Noah to learn not to be spoiled.”
“I never said that.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you call me?”
“I tried.”
Rocco remembered two missed calls while he had been away negotiating a property acquisition.
Then one text from Evelyn:
Please call when you can. I’m worried about Noah.
Rocco had answered:
In meetings. Is he sick?
Evelyn replied:
Not sick. Please call.
He never did.
He had returned home less than an hour earlier.
Now the message felt like an accusation.
Not from Evelyn.
May you like
From himself.
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