Chapter 9 - The First ChristmasDecember 24th in Seattle was crisp, clear, and bitterly cold. The sky above the Space Needle was a brilliant, washed-blue, and the snow that had fallen overnight clung to the pine branches of Queen Anne Hill like powdered sugar.
Inside the grand apartment above the Hail & Hearth Toy Gallery, the tree was a towering twelve-foot noble fir adorned with hand-blown glass ornaments, warm amber lights, and zero corporate logos.
Ren sat in the middle of the living room floor, wearing a brand-new emerald green sweater that matched her eyes, tearing open a massive box containing a professional-grade telescope. Beside her, Nova was carefully unwrapping a set of watercolor paints and heavy art paper, her mustard yellow beanie finally discarded.
Gideon stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, holding a mug of steaming black coffee, watching them.
The federal investigation was officially closed; the offshore accounts had been seized and placed into an untouchable educational and medical trust in the girls' names, managed jointly by Gideon and a federal oversight committee. Julian Vance and his crew were currently awaiting trial in a maximum-security federal penitentiary in Colorado.
And Marcus Vance? The FBI had found his abandoned passport in a Tijuana motel room—he was miles away, running under another false name, having long forgotten the two little girls he left behind in the rain.
"Mr. Gideon!" Nova called out, holding up a sheet of paper covered in a chaotic, vibrant swirl of blue and gold paint. "Look! It's the toy store, but with a spaceship on top!"
Gideon walked over, kneeling beside them on the hardwood floor. He inspected the painting with exaggerated, critical seriousness, tilting his head just like he used to do when reviewing architectural blueprints.
"Needs more stars," Gideon declared solemnly. "And a landing pad for the remote-control dragon."
Ren giggled—a bright, clear sound that had no shadow in it, no hesitation, no memory of cold storefront windows. She reached out, grabbing the hem of Gideon’s shirt just like she had grabbed his sleeve that first night in the rain.
"You're not allowed to leave for coffee today," Ren said, her hazel eyes looking up at him with absolute, unshakeable ownership. "It’s Christmas Eve. You have to stay right here."
May you like
Gideon smiled, feeling that warm, impossible pressure in his chest expand until there was no room left for numbers, systems, or control.
"I'm not going anywhere, Ren," Gideon said softly, wrapping both arms around them and pulling them close. "Nowhere at all."
