(20) A Kidnapping Case

How could he explain the cold silences, the pointed comments, the way Violet looked at him like he was an inconvenience?

How could he explain that his father had stopped caring for him, had replaced him with the new marriage, the new life?

Charity wanted to tell him to stay, but she knows the risk of it. Her career, her anonymity, everything she'd built since she became Vivianne, it could all crumble with one wrong move. She looks at Lucas for any hint, and he sighs, nodding at her.

"You can stay here. But you must behave, is that alright?" She hurriedly suggested, tussling the boy's ruffled blonde hair.

She wanted to hug him in the instant, to pull him close and never let go. She wanted to tell him everything, who she really was, why she was gone, how much she'd missed him, but the words stuck in her throat.

"Vivianne." Lucas called her by her fake name. He sat across them and added, "Can you buy things online that he needs? I have to talk to him first. Don't worry."

Charity reluctantly left them alone. She wanted to stay, but she decided to trust Lucas for that matter. He is aware how important Baron is for her. Lucas wouldn't hurt the boy. He wouldn't jeopardize this fragile connection.

The door clicked shut behind her, and the room felt suddenly larger, emptier.

"Do you know, by staying here, you're risking her career?" Lucas asked immediately once there was only him and Baron left in the living room. His voice carried no judgment, only a quiet, devastating reality.

"I..." Baron was at a loss.

He couldn't find any reasons to tell any rebuttal. His mind scrambled for something, anything that would make what he'd done right. But there was nothing. He'd been selfish, impulsive. He'd put Charity in danger because he couldn't handle his own problems.

Lucas leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "You understand what would happen if someone found out she was harboring you? If the police got involved?"

Baron nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor.

"Baron, look at me."

The boy looked up, and Lucas could see so much of Charity in the set of his jaw, the stubborn lift of his chin. That defiance, that refusal to break, it was all her.

"I'm doing your father a favor." Lucas came up with an excuse to clear the doubts in Baron's head.

It was a lie, of course. Samuel was the last person Lucas wanted to do favors for. But the boy needed a reason to trust him, a framework to understand this bizarre situation.

"And I am very aware you like Vivianne because she looks like your mother. Still, you're risking her with a case of kidnapping."

"I don't want to go back..." Baron insisted, his tone almost pleading. His voice cracked on the last word, and he hated himself for it. "Please, I'll do anything. I'll behave."

"Then, I expect you to behave. You can stay here as long as you want, but when necessary, you need to go back to Samuel." Lucas made a boundary clear towards the boy.

He holds the power anyway to stop anyone from finding Baron. His influence, his connections, the carefully chosen web of people who owed him favors, it would be enough to keep the boy hidden, at least for a while.

"Thanks. Why are you helping me anyway?" Baron can't help but ask.

The question had been burning in his mind since the convenience store. Adults didn't help children out of the goodness of their hearts. There was always an angle, always a transaction.

"Your...father and I are friends." Lucas lied with a straight face.

Baron just nodded, but he felt like there was some hidden meaning behind the words told to him.

Lucas rose from his seat, stretching his arms above his head. "I'll show you to the guest room."

Baron followed him down the hallway, his feet silent on the plush carpet. The condominium was small but warm, nothing like the cold mansion he'd left behind. Lb

Samuel paced back and forth outside the police station's reception. His footsteps were sharp, agitated, wearing a path in the linoleum floor. He still can't stop worrying where Baron went.

"Relax. He'll be fine, he's seven years old already." Violet dismissively said, but she received a venomous glare from him.

"Damn it!" Samuel sat down in frustration and pulled his hair.

He was sweating profusely and seemingly anxious. His suit jacket was discarded on the chair beside him, and his tie was loosened, the first few buttons of his shirt undone.

"What are you so worried about? He can't be that far. The authorities will find him, come on." Violet said with a slightly worried tone, though it was clear she was more concerned with appearances than with Baron's actual safety.

"Vi, this is not something we should take lightly." Samuel reprimanded, his voice strained.

He wouldn't even dare think what could have happened to Baron. The possibilities were endless, and each one made his stomach churn with dread.

He couldn't finish the sentence. The image of Baron alone in the city, frightened and confused, was enough to make him frustrated.

"Why can't we just ask the Redwood Family to look for him? Aren't they influential?" Violet tried to suggest, but she was met with another hostile glare.

"It's not that simple! I can lose my custody over Baron if they were to even think I neglected him! So, in that sense, they must not know he is missing, do you understand?" He angrily said with almost a tinge of sarcasm. "Charity's family, they've been looking for an excuse. Any excuse. If they even suspected.."

Violet pursed her lips and crossed her arms, her heels clicking impatiently against the floor. She just wished Baron would disappear for good once they claimed the inheritance promised to him.

Samuel dropped his head into his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent frustration. "I should have been better at treating him. I should have--"

"Samuel, stop." Violet sat beside him, her hand resting on his arm with gentleness. "This isn't your fault."

But the words felt hollow, and they both knew it.

In the guest room, Baron lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The sheets smelled like lavender, and the room was decorated in soft blues and grays. It was nothing like his room at home, which was filled with expensive toys he never played with and furniture he wasn't allowed to touch.

Vivianne had been kind to him.

Too kind.

He'd seen the hunger in her eyes when she looked at him, the desperate, aching need to reach out and touch him.

Baron wondered what his mother had really been like. Not the idealized version everyone spoke of, or the twisted version Violet whispered about behind closed doors. He wanted to know the real Charity, the one who'd left him.

His eyes grew heavy, and the day's events caught up with him in a wave of exhaustion. The chocolate drink sat empty on the nightstand, and his broken tablet was tucked under the pillow like a talisman. He'd find a way to get it fixed tomorrow, to recover the photos and messages that were trapped inside its cracked screen.

Just as he was drifting off, he heard a soft knock at the door.

"Baron?" Charity's voice came through the wood. "Can I come in?"

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to open the door and fall into her arms and pretend she was his mother. But some part of him, the part that had learned to be cautious, to protect himself; held back.

"I'm going to sleep," he called out, his voice muffled by the pillow.

There was a long silence, and then: "Okay. Goodnight, Baron."

"Goodnight, Vivianne."

He heard her footsteps retreating down the hallway, and something in his chest ached. He'd made a choice tonight, a choice that would have consequences he couldn't even imagine. He'd chosen to trust a stranger with his safety, and he'd chosen to stay in a house that felt more like home than any place he'd ever lived.

But he didn't know if it was the right choice. He didn't know if any choice was right anymore.

The ceiling blurred as his eyes filled with tears, and this time, he didn't have the strength to hold them back. He cried silently, his body shaking with the effort of staying quiet, and he let the grief wash over him in waves.