Chapter 1 - THE CRY AT THE TABLEThe first sound Daniel Carter heard was not his little brother crying.
It was the crystal spoon striking the plate.
The sharp sound traveled across the grand living room of the Carter mansion, cutting through the peaceful afternoon.
Daniel looked up from the picture book resting on his knees.
Across the room, two-year-old Noah sat in a small dining chair beside the luxury dining table.
His cream-colored sweater was spotless.
His innocent blue eyes were full of tears.
Margaret Hayes sat beside him.
Her short blonde hair was perfectly styled, and expensive jewelry gleamed against her burgundy blouse. Nothing about her elegant appearance suggested impatience.
Her expression did.
“Open your mouth,” she ordered.
Noah shook his head.
Margaret pushed another spoonful of food toward him.
The toddler turned away.
Food touched his cheek, and he began to cough.
“Stop crying.”
Her voice was low and hard.
Noah’s small hands reached helplessly toward the empty room.
“Mikey,” he sobbed.
He could not pronounce Daniel’s name properly, so he called him Mikey.
Daniel dropped the book.
He ran across the polished marble floor in his clean white sneakers.
“Stop feeding him!”
Margaret turned.
“I did not ask for your opinion.”
“He can’t breathe.”
“He is being dramatic.”
“He’s two!”
Daniel climbed beside Noah’s chair and gently wrapped both arms around his brother.
Noah immediately buried his face against Daniel’s blue sweater.
Margaret’s eyes narrowed.
“Move away.”
Daniel did not.
“He doesn’t want any more.”
“You are teaching him to misbehave.”
“He’s scared.”
Margaret stood.
Her luxury heels clicked against the marble.
Daniel knew that sound.
It meant she had finished pretending to be patient.
He tightened his arms around Noah.
“Let him go,” Margaret said.
“No.”
The word escaped before Daniel could stop it.
Margaret grabbed his shoulder.
Her fingers dug through the blue sweater.
Daniel looked up.
For one second, he saw the decision form in her face.
Then her hand struck his cheek.
The slap was not hard enough to knock him down.
It was hard enough to silence the entire room.
Daniel froze.
Noah screamed.
A crystal plate slipped from the table and shattered against the marble floor.
Margaret looked at the broken pieces, then at Daniel.
“You see what you did?”
Daniel’s eyes filled with tears.
“You broke it.”
“You frightened your brother. You ruined an expensive plate. And now you are arguing with me.”
She pointed toward the mansion’s large wooden entrance door.
“Do you want me to throw both of you out?”
Daniel’s cheek burned.
He was frightened.
But Noah was clinging to him so tightly that the toddler’s small hands shook.
Daniel stepped in front of his brother.
Margaret’s expression became colder.
“You think your father will protect you?”
Daniel swallowed.
“He will when I tell him.”
“Your father is in New York.”
“I’ll tell Grandma.”
“Your grandmother can’t help you.”
Daniel looked toward the expensive family photographs covering the wall.
One showed his grandmother, Eleanor Carter, standing proudly in front of the mansion.
Another showed Daniel as a baby in her arms.
“This house isn’t yours,” Daniel said.
Margaret became completely still.
Daniel pointed at the photographs.
“It belongs to Grandma.”
He took a trembling breath.
“I’m telling Dad and Grandma everything.”
For the first time, fear appeared in Margaret’s eyes.
Then it disappeared.
She reached for Noah and grabbed his arm.
“You are not telling anyone anything.”
Daniel pulled his brother back.
“Don’t touch him!”
Behind Margaret, the massive entrance door began to open.
Warm sunlight spread across the marble.
A man’s silhouette appeared in the doorway.
Margaret slowly released Noah.
Daniel held his little brother close.
The man stepped inside.
A black travel case slipped from his hand and struck the floor.
“Daniel?”
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It was their father.
And he had heard everything.
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