Chapter 2 - The Chase Through Rittenhouse
"Let you go?" The words sounded strangled in my throat. "Rachel, I looked for you for eight months. I went to your apartment. I called your sister. I went to the police, and they told me an adult had the right to leave if she left a note. What do you mean, let you go?"
She looked down at the stroller. The three children had gone quiet, sensing the tension radiating from their mother. The gray-eyed girl was sucking her thumb, staring at my silver watch. The other little girl had tucked her chin into her fleece blanket, while the boy was glaring at me with protective, toddler defiance.
"You have your life," Rachel said, her voice dropping into a desperate, hollow murmur. "I saw the announcement in the papers last month. The Stanton-Brooks wedding. You made partner. You're marrying Senator Stanton's daughter. You got everything you ever wanted."
"I got what was left after you destroyed me!" I stepped around the side of the stroller, unable to tear my gaze away from the children. Up close, the resemblance was undeniable. It wasn't just a trick of light or hopeful imagination. The boy had the slight cleft in his chin that had skipped two generations of Brooks men until me. The girls had my mother's delicate ears. "Rachel... whose children are these?"
Her jaw trembled. She pressed her lips together, fighting back a sob, and looked away toward the traffic on Walnut Street. "They're mine."
"Rachel." My voice broke. I dropped to one knee on the dirty Philadelphia pavement, bringing my face level with the three little passengers. "Look at me. Look at their faces. Who is their father?"
"Evan!"
Noelle's sharp heels clicked against the concrete behind me. She was flushed with anger, her designer trench coat billowing as she caught up to us, her eyes flashing dangerously. Several pedestrians paused to watch the scene unfolding outside the park gates.
"What is the meaning of this?" Noelle demanded, her gaze raking over Rachel's faded clothes, the scuffed stroller, and finally landing on me kneeling on the sidewalk. "You left me standing by the fountain like an idiot! Who is this person?"
Rachel took a step back, her posture closing in on herself like a threatened animal. "I'm nobody. I was just leaving."
"No, you're not," I said, standing up and placing myself firmly between Rachel and the curb. "Noelle, this is Rachel."
Noelle’s expression stiffened. The irritation in her eyes suddenly gave way to something colder, something guarded and calculating. "Rachel? As in... your ex?"
"Yes."
Noelle’s eyes flicked to the stroller, and for a fraction of a second, I saw a flash of pure panic cross her features before her practiced social mask slid back into place. "Evan, this is absurd. It’s an awkward coincidence, but we have appointments. My mother is waiting, the florist is finalizing the centerpieces, and you’re making a public spectacle out of an old college romance."
"They're three years old, Noelle," I said, pointing an unsteady finger at the three toddlers. "Count the months. We broke up four years ago."
"People have children, Evan! It happens every day!" Noelle’s voice tightened, a frantic edge creeping in. "She moved on. She had a family with someone else. Now let it go and come with me."
Rachel looked at Noelle, then looked at me. A bitter, wounded smile touched the corner of her lips. "She's right, Evan. You should go. You don't belong in this world anymore."
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"I am not leaving until you answer my question," I said, ignoring Noelle completely. "Rachel, are they mine?"
A single tear spilled over Rachel's lashes, cutting a clean path through the pale dust on her cheek. "If you really cared about the answer, Evan, you wouldn't have sent that check."
