Chapter 2 - The Landing on the Military Estate
The heavy chopper touched down softly on the designated field, kicking up a flurry of crisp winter leaves and dry grass. Daniel came striding out across the lawn holding a crystal champagne glass, flanked by his disapproving mother and his glamorous wife, Vanessa, who wore a radiant red holiday dress engineered specifically for high-society cameras. The door of the aircraft slid open, and Claire stepped down first into the chilly Virginia air, her posture straight and resolute.
Then came Sophie. Then Noah. Then Emma and Lucas, holding hands tightly to steady themselves against the wind.
Daniel’s stride faltered, and his champagne glass tilted dangerously, a few drops splashing onto his polished leather shoes. He stared at the four children descending the ladder as though a ghost he had buried deep beneath the earth had suddenly crawled out to look him in the eye.
"Claire," he choked out, the name catching in his throat.
Claire walked forward, her hand firmly enclosing Lucas’s mittened fingers. She looked him dead in the eye, her voice carrying across the quiet lawn. "You said not to come alone."
For six long, grueling years, Claire had visualized this exact confrontation in her mind. Yet, standing there in the cold afternoon breeze, it didn't feel like a flashy triumph or a petty revenge. It felt like finally lowering a crushing weight she had carried across deserts of grief and mountains of single motherhood.
Daniel’s mother let out a sharp, choked gasp, clutching her pearls in sheer terror. Vanessa instinctively reached out, grabbing Daniel’s arm as if anchoring herself to a sinking ship. Before Daniel could recover his voice or formulate a lie, a woman wearing an official charity name badge hurried briskly across the lawn toward them, eager to greet the high-profile arrivals.
"These must be the children," the charity representative said, smiling uncertainly at the quadruplets.
Daniel whipped his head around, his face draining of all color. "What children?"
The coordinator blinked, looking confusedly between Daniel and Claire. "Mrs. Reynolds, I’m so sorry. I understood they were—"
May you like
"Alive?" Claire supplied smoothly, her voice cutting through the crisp air like a winter wind.
The coordinator's smile froze, her expression shifting into one of profound confusion and sudden unease.
