Chapter 2: The Man Who Came When Dad Was Gone
Marcus didn't sleep that night.
He sat on the edge of Noah's bed, listening to the little boy breathe.
The bedroom was decorated with baseball posters, toy cars, and a collection of miniature stadiums Marcus had bought him over the years.
Everything looked normal.
But when Marcus pulled back the blanket, he noticed something strange.
Noah was sleeping in his clothes.
His shoes were placed neatly beside the bed.
And his small backpack sat next to the bedroom door.
Marcus gently touched his shoulder.
“Buddy?””
Noah opened his eyes.
“Dad?””
“Why are you sleeping with your clothes on?””
The boy rubbed his face.
“Just in case.””
“In case of what?””
Noah hesitated.
Then he whispered, “In case I have to leave quickly.””
Marcus stared at him.
“Who told you to pack?””
Noah pulled the blanket up to his chin.
“Mom said sometimes I might have to stay somewhere else.””
“Where?””
“I don't know.””
“Did she say when?””
Noah shook his head.
Marcus sat quietly for several seconds.
Then he reached over and removed the backpack from beside the door.
“You're not going anywhere tonight. You're staying right here with me.””
Noah looked at him carefully.
“Promise?””
“I promise.””
The boy's shoulders relaxed.
Marcus leaned forward and kissed his forehead.
“Get some sleep. I'll be right outside.””
He waited until Noah's eyes closed before leaving the room.
Downstairs, Vanessa was standing in the kitchen.
She had changed into silk pajamas and was pouring herself a glass of sparkling water.
She looked at Marcus.
“Is he asleep?””
“Yes.””
“Good. He's been dramatic lately.””
Marcus stopped walking.
“Don't call him dramatic.””
Vanessa sighed.
“Marcus, we need to talk like adults.””
“Fine. Start with the man who called you.””
Her hand tightened around the glass.
“I told you. It was a wrong number.””
“A wrong number that knew my son's name?””
“He didn't say Noah's name.””
“He asked if the boy was alone.””
Vanessa looked away.
Marcus pulled out a chair.
“Sit down.””
“I don't take orders from you.””
“Then stand. But you're going to answer my questions.””
She placed the glass on the counter.
“You're making this much worse than it needs to be.””
“Who visits my house when I'm at work?””
“No one.””
“Try again.””
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“Sometimes people come by to help.””
“Who?””
“A family friend.””
“Name.””
She hesitated.
“Daniel.””
Marcus recognized the name.
Daniel Price.
Vanessa's older brother.
A man Marcus had met only a handful of times. Daniel had been unemployed for years, had a history of gambling debts, and frequently asked Vanessa for money.
Marcus had never liked him.
“What does Daniel want with Noah?””
“Nothing.””
“Then why does my son sleep with his shoes on?””
Vanessa's expression shifted.
“He's a child. Children have imaginations.””
Marcus pulled out his phone.
“I'm calling the police.””
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Don't you dare!””
“Why?””
“Because you'll destroy this family!””
Marcus looked at her.
“I'm beginning to think somebody already did.””
He called the non-emergency police number and explained that his eight-year-old son had made a concerning statement about an unidentified adult visiting the home.
The dispatcher advised him to document everything and arrange for an officer to speak with the child.
Vanessa stood by the kitchen counter, gripping her glass.
When Marcus ended the call, she shook her head.
“You're humiliating me.””
“I'm protecting my son.””
“You don't even know what happened!””
“Then tell me.””
She looked toward the staircase.
For a moment, Marcus thought she might finally speak.
Instead, she whispered, “You should have stayed at work.””
That sentence stayed with him.
At 7:15 the next morning, Marcus drove Noah to school himself.
The boy sat in the passenger seat, holding a breakfast sandwich Marcus had bought him.
He ate slowly.
Halfway through the drive, he spoke.
“Dad?””
“Yeah, buddy?””
“Can I have another sandwich tomorrow?””
Marcus glanced at him.
“Of course.””
“Even if Mom says no?””
Marcus tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“You never have to ask permission to be fed.””
Noah looked down at the sandwich.
“Okay.””
At school, Marcus walked him to the entrance.
Noah turned before going inside.
“Dad?””
“What's up?””
“Don't tell Mom I talked to you.””
Marcus crouched.
“Why not?””
“She'll be angry.””
Marcus held his son's shoulders.
“You didn't do anything wrong. Not one thing.””
Noah nodded and disappeared through the doors.
Marcus remained outside until he could no longer see him.
Then he called his attorney, Evelyn Brooks.
They had worked together during the early years of his company. Evelyn was sharp, practical, and not easily impressed by money or excuses.
He explained what had happened.
She listened without interrupting.
When he finished, she asked one question.
“Marcus, has Vanessa ever had unsupervised access to your company accounts?””
“Yes. I gave her access to the household account.””
“That's not what I asked.””
He looked through the windshield.
“I added her as an authorized user on two business expense cards last year.””
There was silence.
“Why?””
“She handles household purchases.””
“Designer handbags?””
Marcus said nothing.
Evelyn exhaled.
“Send me the statements. Every transaction for the last eighteen months. And don't confront her about the financial records until I've reviewed them.””
“What are you expecting to find?””
“I don't know yet. But I don't like the combination of unexplained visitors, a frightened child, and financial irregularities.””
At noon, Marcus received a call from Noah's school.
It was the school counselor, Mrs. Patterson.
“Mr. Reed, could you come in this afternoon?””
“Is Noah okay?””
“He's physically fine. But I think you should see something.””
Marcus arrived forty minutes later.
Mrs. Patterson led him into her office and placed a drawing on the desk.
It showed a large house with three people standing outside.
One adult man.
One adult woman.
One little boy.
The woman was holding a suitcase.
The boy stood beside her.
The man was drawn far away, separated from the others by a thick black line.
“What is this?”” Marcus asked.
“Noah drew it during an activity yesterday.””
Mrs. Patterson turned the paper around.
“Would you like to tell me what you see?””
Marcus studied the drawing.
The woman had a speech bubble.
Inside it were four words.
Daddy doesn't want you.
He felt his throat tighten.
“Did he explain this?””
Mrs. Patterson nodded.
“He said his mother sometimes tells him you're too busy to keep him. He also mentioned that another man visits the house and takes him for short drives.””
Marcus gripped the edge of the desk.
“Who is the man?””
“He called him Uncle Daniel.””
Marcus closed his eyes.
Mrs. Patterson continued.
“Mr. Reed, I don't want to make assumptions, but Noah appears very anxious about being separated from you.””
“Has he said anything about being hurt?””
“Not directly. But he did say something else.””
“What?””
“He said the man makes him sit in a car while his mother and sister go shopping.””
Marcus looked up.
“Shopping?””
“Yes. Noah said he sometimes waits for hours.””
Marcus remembered the $8,742 receipt.
He also remembered the company account message.
“Can I see his attendance records?””
Mrs. Patterson opened a folder.
“There's something else. Noah has missed seven Mondays this semester. The absences were all reported as family appointments.””
Marcus stared.
“Family appointments?””
“Yes. Vanessa called each time.””
He knew nothing about those appointments.
Nothing.
Mrs. Patterson slid another sheet across the desk.
“These are the dates.””
Marcus looked at them.
Three dates matched unusually large withdrawals from the household account.
Two matched payments to a private transportation company.
And one matched a transfer he had approved without checking the details.
He photographed the documents.
Then he called Evelyn.
“Something is happening on Mondays,” he said.
“Tell me.””
He explained everything.
Evelyn became quiet.
Then she asked him to read the payment descriptions.
Marcus opened his banking app.
One transfer stood out.
$12,500.
The recipient was listed as a company called Northbridge Family Services.
Marcus frowned.
“I've never heard of them.””
“Don't touch the account,” Evelyn said.
“I'm going to investigate the recipient.””
He drove home just after four.
Vanessa's car was in the driveway.
So was another vehicle.
A black SUV.
Marcus recognized the man standing beside it.
Daniel Price.
He was wearing sunglasses, an expensive jacket, and the kind of smile that made Marcus immediately suspicious.
Daniel raised a hand.
“Marcus! What a surprise.””
Marcus got out of his car.
“What are you doing here?””
Daniel laughed.
“Visiting my sister.””
“Where's Noah?””
“Upstairs, I think.””
“Why do you think?””
Daniel shrugged.
“Kids are unpredictable.””
Marcus stepped closer.
“I want to know why you're taking my son out of this house.””
Daniel removed his sunglasses.
“Careful, Marcus.””
“Answer me.””
Vanessa appeared in the doorway.
“Marcus, stop interrogating my brother.””
Marcus ignored her.
“Daniel, did you take Noah anywhere this week?””
Daniel smiled.
“Maybe you should ask your wife.””
Then he leaned closer and lowered his voice.
“You know, Marcus, you've been gone so much that perhaps you should be grateful somebody else has been looking after your boy.””
Marcus clenched his jaw.
Before he could respond, Noah appeared at the top of the stairs.
He saw Daniel.
His face went white.
The boy ran backward.
Marcus turned.
“Noah?””
May you like
But the bedroom door slammed shut.
And then Marcus heard the sound of a lock turning.
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