Chapter 2 - THREE DAYSGrant did not ask Caleb another question inside the restroom.
That was the first good decision he made.
Paramedics arrived.
Caleb was dehydrated, exhausted and frightened, but there were no serious injuries.
He had survived on a small amount of water from an old maintenance bottle left inside the compartment and a packet of crackers he found in a toolbox.
Grant nearly became sick when he heard.
Three days.
His son had been inside the mansion for three days while they searched forests.
At the hospital, Grant sat beside Caleb’s bed.
Audra held the boy’s hand.
Lucia had come too because Caleb refused to let her leave until he was examined.
Beatrice arrived with Camille.
Grant met them in hallway.
“You’re not going in.”
Beatrice looked shocked.
“I’m his grandmother.”
“He needs quiet.”
“Grant.”
“Not now.”
Camille stepped forward.
“Mom has been beside herself.”
Grant looked at her.
“Then she can be beside herself somewhere else.”
Camille flinched.
Grant had never spoken to either woman that way.
Not even when they fought with Audra.
Especially not then.
For years Grant believed disagreements between wife, mother and sister were ordinary family tension.
Personality.
Class.
Different backgrounds.
He had not understood fear.
Now he had felt Caleb’s hands tighten when Beatrice entered.
That changed everything.
Inside hospital room Caleb fell asleep.
Audra sat beside him.
Grant watched her.
She looked like she had aged five years in three days.
Hair tangled.
Same sweater since yesterday.
Eyes swollen.
He touched her shoulder.
“Audra.”
She looked.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
Grant heard something in her voice.
Not reassurance.
Habit.
“You called me six times before I answered.”
“You were on plane.”
“I mean before he disappeared.”
Audra looked away.
Grant remembered missed calls from previous weeks.
Small things.
Audra asking when he would be home.
Caleb wanting to talk.
Grant saying:
“After this deal.”
“Tomorrow.”
“This weekend.”
Work had consumed him.
Montgomery Group was transitioning leadership.
His mother expected him to become chairman within the year.
He traveled constantly.
London.
Zurich.
New York.
Singapore.
Every success was supposed to secure his family.
Yet his son had been locked behind a wall in the house Grant thought safest.
He whispered:
“How long has something been wrong?”
Audra’s eyes moved toward sleeping Caleb.
“What do you mean?”
“That wasn’t random.”
No answer.
“The door locks from outside.”
Still nothing.
Grant leaned forward.
“Did someone in that house hurt him before?”
Audra shook her head too quickly.
Grant noticed.
He had negotiated with hostile boards.
He knew avoidance.
“Audra.”
“Not now.”
He stopped.
She was right.
This was not time.
A child psychologist arrived.
Then police detectives.
Caleb spoke only a little.
He remembered being in east wing.
He remembered someone telling him he needed “time to think.”
Then darkness.
Detective asked:
“Who?”
Caleb’s eyes filled.
“I don’t want to say.”
“Why?”
Silence.
Grant stepped in.
“He doesn’t have to answer tonight.”
Detective nodded.
“Of course.”
That night Caleb woke screaming.
Grant was beside him immediately.
“Dad!”
“I’m here.”
Caleb grabbed his shirt.
“Don’t leave.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Grant stayed.
Around 3 a.m., Caleb whispered:
“Dad?”
“Yes.”
“Are we going home?”
Grant hesitated.
“Eventually.”
Caleb’s eyes widened.
“No.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to go back.”
Grant’s heart sank.
“Why?”
Caleb started crying.
“Don’t let her know I told you.”
Grant looked toward Audra sleeping in chair.
“Who?”
Caleb closed mouth.
Grant waited.
No pressure.
Then Caleb whispered:
“Grandma says you’ll choose her.”
Grant stopped breathing.
“If I make trouble.”
“Caleb.”
“She said you always choose family.”
Grant touched his son’s hair.
“You are my family.”
Caleb looked unconvinced.
May you like
And that hurt more than accusation.
Because a seven-year-old had somehow learned that Grant’s definition of family might not include him.
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