Chapter 4 - THE MIDNIGHT LESSONThat night, Damian did not send Elena away. Instead, he issued a quiet, terrifying directive to his security team: No one enters the east wing between midnight and 04:00. Anyone who violates this will answer directly to me.
At midnight, Elena quietly slipped out of her fourth-floor room and walked down to the second-floor landing.
Noah was already there.
He sat curled into a tight ball against the base of the massive mahogany bookcase, clutching Captain Buttons so tightly that his tiny knuckles were white. His breathing was shallow and fast—the hyperventilating rhythm of a child trapped in a permanent panic attack.
Elena did not approach him. She sat down four feet away, resting her back against the opposite wall.
She didn't speak. She didn't offer him food, toys, or sympathy. Instead, she took out a small sketchbook and a box of colored pencils she had quietly purchased with her meager advance, and began to draw.
She drew a simple tree. Then a small bird resting on a branch. Then a sun with oversized, smiling rays.
For two hours, neither of them moved.
Around 02:00, Elena felt a shadow fall over her.
She looked up. Ten feet down the corridor, half-concealed by the archway, stood Damian Mercer. He was motionless, his broad shoulders tense beneath a black silk shirt, watching them with the intensity of a predator guarding its young. He looked like a monument carved out of grief and iron.
He didn't say a word. He just watched.
Noah shifted.
The little boy slowly lowered Captain Buttons. His large, haunted eyes turned toward Elena. He looked at her fingers, then down at the colored pencils in her hand.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Noah began to crawl forward.
He didn't move fast. Every few inches, he stopped, trembling, testing the air to see if the illusion of safety would shatter. Elena remained completely still, breathing in a slow, exaggerated rhythm to show him it was safe.
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When Noah finally reached her, he didn't touch her. He simply sat down two feet away, picked up a blue colored pencil that had rolled near his knee, and stared at it.
Down the hall, Damian closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, his chest rising and falling in a deep, shuddering breath.
