Chapter 2 - Wednesday at Four
At three fifty-five on Wednesday, Lily moved her chair away from the window.
At three fifty-seven, she moved it back.
At four exactly, a black sedan stopped outside Harbor House.
Adrian climbed out carrying a paper grocery bag.
No balloons. No enormous stuffed animals. No photographer.
Lily watched him check the building number before entering.
Somehow, that small uncertainty made him easier to believe.
Naomi brought him into the supervised visiting room.
“You came,” Lily said.
“I said Wednesday.”
“You could’ve meant another Wednesday.”
“That would have been sneaky.”
She considered this, then pointed at the bag.
“Is that for me?”
“Apples, crackers, and three kinds of cheese. I didn’t know what you liked.”
“Not fancy cheese.”
“Then we’ll give that one to Vincent.”
“Who’s Vincent?”
“My adviser.”
“Does he like fancy things?”
“Very much.”
They ate ordinary cheddar from paper plates.
Ethan joined them after asking Naomi twice whether he was allowed.
Adrian let the children choose the game.
They selected a battered building set with several missing pieces.
“You need a roof,” Ethan said, inspecting Adrian’s crooked construction.
“I’m working on it.”
“It’s going to leak.”
“Everyone’s a critic.”
Lily silently handed him the piece he needed.
When Naomi announced the visit was nearly over, Lily’s hands disappeared beneath the table.
Adrian remembered the way she had gripped Captain.
“I’ll speak with Naomi about another visit,” he said.
“Don’t say that just because I look sad.”
“I’m saying it because I’d like another visit.”
She looked up.
Those were different things.
Over the following weeks, Adrian attended training in a room with fluorescent lights and uncomfortable chairs.
Nobody cared how much money he had.
A retired teacher asked him to explain how he would respond if a child hid food.
“I’d tell her she can always eat.”
“And when she doesn’t believe you?”
He had no immediate answer.
The teacher nodded.
“That’s where parenting starts.”
He learned about predictable routines, supervised contact, grief, and the ways frightened children protected themselves.
He disclosed old arrests, business associations, and every incident his attorneys had once advised him never to discuss.
Several conversations were unpleasant.
One nearly ended the process.
Adrian stayed.
Meanwhile, the couple interested in Ethan continued visiting.
Their names were David and Rachel Monroe.
They owned a modest accounting practice, had two older sons, and asked more questions about Ethan’s nightmares than his school photographs.
When Rachel learned about Lily, she asked Naomi how the children could remain connected.
Lily distrusted her immediately.
Rachel didn’t take offense.
“You don’t have to like me today,” she said.
“Or tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow’s available, too.”
Adrian liked her.
Vincent did not.
“You’re letting strangers examine your life,” he told Adrian one evening.
“They’re examining whether a child would be safe.”
“That girl has already cost you six weeks.”
Adrian put down his pen.
“Don’t speak about her like an invoice.”
Vincent’s face changed almost imperceptibly.
“Of course.”
The home assessor arrived the following Tuesday.
Adrian had prepared a beautiful bedroom overlooking the gardens.
Lily, invited for an approved introductory visit, stood in its doorway without entering.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Where’s your room?”
“Down the hall.”
“How far?”
He showed her.
She counted the doors.
Seven.
Her face closed.
Later, Naomi explained that beautiful rooms could still feel very far from safety.
The following visit, Adrian offered a smaller room beside his study.
Lily stepped inside.
The bedspread was yellow. A night-light sat beside the dresser. Nothing had her name embroidered on it.
“Can I move the chair?” she asked.
“Where would you like it?”
“By the door.”
“Okay.”
She moved it three inches.
Then she moved it back.
Adrian waited.
That evening, while Lily washed her hands, Captain slipped from the chair.
Adrian picked him up.
Something stiff shifted inside the bear’s scorched lining.
A folded scrap of paper protruded through an old tear.
He didn’t pull it out.
But he saw two words before tucking it safely back.
May you like
MERCER COURT.
His company had owned that building.
