Chapter 2 - The Echo of a Lost Family
The black SUV idling at the curb flashed its headlights impatiently, but Kenneth didn't move. He remained kneeling on the concrete, his fingers lightly tracing the jagged, amateurish scratches on the bike frame as if touching something sacred and fragile.
"What is your mother's name?" Kenneth asked, his voice dropping to a rough whisper.
Mia backed up a half-step, clutching the handlebar protectively. "Why do you care? You just destroyed my sign. You said nobody was going to buy it."
"I lied," Kenneth said, his eyes meeting hers for the first time with an intensity that made her breath catch. The chilling indifference was entirely gone, replaced by a storm of long-buried grief and ferocious urgency. "Tell me your mother's name, little one. Right now."
"It's... it's Clara," Mia whispered, intimidated by the sudden shift in his demeanor. "Clara Vance."
The name struck Kenneth like a physical blow. He staggered slightly, catching himself on the pavement with one hand. The sister he had spent fifteen years searching for—the sister his tyrannical father had disowned and erased from company records—had been living in this city, struggling in a basement, while he sat in a glass tower counting money.
"Clara," he repeated, tasting the syllable like it was both poison and medicine. He looked up at the girl, suddenly seeing the familiar shape of her jaw, the stubborn curve of her brow, the striking blue of her eyes. They were Katherine’s eyes.
"Get in the car," Kenneth ordered, turning sharply toward his lead body guard, a towering man named Marcus who had already stepped out of the SUV.
"Sir?" Marcus blinked, caught off guard by his boss's sudden erratic behavior. "The quarterly investor meeting is in twenty minutes. We can't—"
"Cancel it," Kenneth snapped, standing up with a terrifying authority that brooked no argument. He grabbed the pink bicycle by its handlebars, lifting it effortlessly. "Clear my entire schedule for the next week. Marcus... we're going home."
Mia panicked, pulling back on the frame. "Wait! Where are you taking my bike? Where are you taking me? My mom is sick! I have to get medicine!"
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Kenneth stopped, looking down at her with a gentleness that shocked even himself. He reached into his inner coat pocket, pulled out a thick, leather-bound checkbook, and tore off a blank check without hesitation.
"Your mother isn't going to need fifty dollars, Mia," Kenneth said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "She's going to need the best doctors money can buy. And you... you're coming to meet your uncle."
