Chapter 4: You Want Me to Live Here?

Riley looked up at her mother’s portrait one more time.

Evelyn Whitmore at seventeen.

She looked nothing like the mother Riley remembered.

And yet there was no mistaking that face.

“...Mom never told me.”

Riley’s voice came out quieter than she meant it to.

“Not about this house. Not about you.”

“I didn’t expect that she would.”

Charles’s voice was calm.

“Evelyn intended to leave her entire past behind.”

“Didn’t you look for her?”

“I did.”

The answer came immediately.

“For years.”

Riley turned toward him.

Charles was still looking at the portrait.

“At first, I assumed she would come back. She had little money and few people she could rely on. I thought once she learned how difficult life outside this family could be, she’d return.”

“She didn’t.”

“No.”

“Yeah. Mom could be stubborn like that.”

“I know.”

Charles gave a bitter little smile.

“Eventually, I stopped caring whether she came home. I only wanted to know she was safe.”

But Evelyn had changed her name and moved from place to place.

Charles had never managed to find her.

And by the time he finally did—

it was already too late.

“I learned that your mother had died a few months ago.”

Riley said nothing.

“And while looking into what happened to her, I discovered that my daughter had a child.”

“Me.”

“Yes.”

Charles finally looked at her.

“I wanted to meet you.”

The simple honesty of it made Riley uncomfortable.

Being yelled at would have been easier.

Crying would have been worse.

So, as usual, she let her mouth handle the situation.

“And that required surrounding me with black cars?”

“I apologized for that.”

“I haven’t forgiven you yet.”

“Then I apologize again.”

“You don’t get double forgiveness for apologizing twice.”

“I see.”

Charles smiled faintly.

That only made Riley feel more off-balance.

“So.”

She folded her arms.

“You brought me all the way here. What exactly do you want?”

“I want you to live here.”

“...What?”

“I’d like you to live in this house.”

“I heard you. I just don’t understand you.”

“I mean exactly what I said.”

Riley looked around.

The endless hallway.

The expensive-looking paintings.

The expensive-looking vases.

The expensive-looking floor.

She couldn’t have guessed the price of a single thing in the place, but she was pretty sure all of it cost too much.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“Live here?”

“That is what I’m proposing.”

Riley thought about that for a moment.

“Rent?”

“None.”

“Food?”

“Of course not.”

“Electricity?”

“You won’t be paying for it.”

“Water?”

“No.”

“Meals?”

“They’ll be provided.”

“Every day?”

“Every day.”

“...Seriously?”

Charles’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Are you becoming interested?”

“No.”

“I see.”

“I’m just checking.”

“Of course you are.”

Riley frowned.

Annoying.

But free rent was powerful.

Extremely powerful.

“If you want to go home, I won’t stop you,” Charles continued.

Riley looked up, surprised.

“You won’t?”

“If I force you to stay here, I’ll only be making the same mistake all over again.”

That shut her up.

“All I’m asking is that you try living here for a while. If you hate it, we can decide what to do then.”

“...For how long?”

“As long as you want.”

“That’s vague.”

“A week. A year. Whatever you choose.”

“That’s a pretty huge range.”

At that exact moment, Riley’s stomach growled.

Loudly.

The sound echoed down the quiet hallway.

“...”

Charles looked at her.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I was running. I’m hungry.”

“I see.”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing.”

“Your mouth is!”

Charles cleared his throat.

“Let’s get you something to eat.”

“What do you have?”

“Whatever you’d like, within reason.”

“Anything?”

“As long as it can be arranged.”

“A burger.”

Charles paused.

“...A hamburger?”

“And fries.”

“All right.”

“Coke.”

“All right.”

“A large.”

“You’re specifying the size too?”

“You said whatever I wanted.”

“Fair enough.”

Riley smiled just a little.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

At the very least, there was food.

Free food.

Maybe staying a few days wouldn’t hurt—

“Father!”

A sharp female voice rang out from the far end of the hallway.

Riley turned.

A woman was walking toward them with perfect posture.

Her dark brown hair was immaculate. So were her clothes. There wasn’t a single thing about her that seemed out of place.

Beside her walked a man in glasses and a tailored suit.

Both of them were staring at Riley.

More specifically—

at her ripped jeans.

Her dirty sneakers.

Her messy ponytail.

And the mud on one knee.

The woman’s eyebrows slowly rose.

“...That’s her?”

“Yes,” Charles said.

“This is Riley.”

The woman stared at Riley for a long moment.

Riley stared right back.

“What?”

The man beside her closed his eyes.

For some reason, he already looked tired.

Charles, apparently unconcerned, continued the introductions.

“Riley, this is Vivian. Your aunt.”

“Aunt.”

“And this is Grant. Your uncle.”

“Uncle.”

Riley looked from one to the other.

Then back at Charles.

“Are there more of you?”

Grant let out a quiet breath.

“...She really does take after Evelyn.”

Vivian’s eyebrows climbed even higher.