Chapter 6 - Dawn at the EstateThe first pale streaks of dawn crept over the San Francisco hills, painting the sky in shades of bruised purple and gold.
Inside the guest suite on the second floor of Nathan’s mansion, Iris stirred beneath a mountain of goose-down blankets. For the first time in as long as she could remember, her bones didn't ache from the bitter cold. The heavy cough that had racked her chest all night had subsided, eased by the warm steam humidifier humming in the corner.
She blinked open her eyes, disoriented by the sheer luxury of the room—the vaulted ceilings, the silk drapes, the soft white carpet beneath her toes if she dared to step down.
Then she felt a warm, rhythmic weight pressing against her ribs.
Iris looked down. Barnaby the kitten was curled up tightly against her stomach, fast asleep, his little leg encased in a tiny, lightweight medical cast. His breathing was steady and deep.
A soft knock sounded at the heavy oak door.
"Iris?"
It was Nathan’s voice. He pushed the door open gently, holding a tray piled high with scrambled eggs, warm toast, and a glass of fresh orange juice. He had changed out of his tuxedo into a simple dark grey cashmere sweater and jeans, though the shadows under his eyes revealed he hadn't slept a wink.
Iris sat up quickly, clutching the blankets to her chest. "Mr. Nathan... am I dreaming?"
Nathan smiled, walking over and placing the tray gently across her lap. The sight of the little girl eating her first real, hot meal in months made his chest tighten in a way no corporate merger ever had.
"No dream, kiddo," Nathan said, sitting down carefully on the edge of the mattress. "How’s Barnaby?"
Iris beamed, gently stroking the kitten's head. "He didn't cry all night! And look, his eyes are open!"
True to form, Barnaby gave a tiny squeak and blinked two bright, clear green eyes up at them, completely healed from the infection that had threatened to blind him just hours ago.
"Good," Nathan said softly. "Dr. Vance is coming by later to check his leg again. But right now, we have something important to talk about, you and I."
Iris’s smile faltered slightly, her big eyes filling with sudden anxiety. "Am... am I in trouble? Are the police coming to take me back to the cold?"
Nathan’s heart broke a little more. He reached out and gently touched her hand, his thumb brushing away a stray speck of soot still clinging to her wrist.
"Nobody is taking you anywhere, Iris. I promise you that," Nathan said with absolute, unshakeable conviction. "Ever. But there are some people—bad people—who tried to hurt you and take away homes from kids like you. They tried to scare me last night."
Iris stared at him, her young mind grasping far more than her years suggested. "The silver-haired man?"
"Yes. The silver-haired man," Nathan nodded. "He thought he could hide what he was doing. But today, the whole world is going to find out the truth."
Right on cue, Nathan’s tablet on the nightstand lit up with a breaking news alert.
Nathan reached over and tapped the screen.
May you like
The live broadcast showed a massive mob of reporters, protestors, and federal investigators swarming the front steps of the Bright Harbor Children’s Relief headquarters downtown. Microphones were shoved into the face of Julian Mallory, who looked utterly panicked, his silver hair disheveled, stumbling backward as federal agents slapped a federal subpoena into his hands.
Below the live feed, the bold news ticker read: FEDERAL PROSECUTORS LAUNCH CRIMINAL FRAUD INVESTIGATION INTO BRIGHT HARBOR CHARITY; MILLIONS EMBEZZLED FROM PUBLIC HOUSING FUNDS.
