Chapter 5 - REUNITED ON THE GOLD COAST
The penthouse suite on the Gold Coast was bathed in the warm, golden glow of lamplight when the private elevator chimed.
Marian Blake stood near the entryway, wringing her hands, while Keller stood quietly by the window.
The elevator doors slid open.
Grant stepped out, carrying Luke in his arms. The little boy was fast asleep against Grant’s chest, exhausted from three days of terror and cold, wrapped in Grant’s cashmere overcoat.
Sophie, who had been sitting on the edge of the sofa playing quietly with her plastic bead bracelet, looked up.
Her breath caught.
“Luke?” she whispered, scrambling off the couch.
Grant knelt down slowly, setting Luke down on the rug. The little boy stirred, rubbing his eyes, blinking against the light. He looked up, saw his sister standing right in front of him, and let out a choked cry.
“Sophie!”
“Luke!”
They collided in the middle of the room, throwing their arms around each other in a fierce, desperate embrace, tumbling onto the rug in a tangle of limbs and tears. Sophie buried her face in her brother's neck, sobbing out his name over and over again, while Luke gripped the back of her yellow sweatshirt as if letting go would make her vanish.
Marian turned away, wiping a tear from her cheek with the corner of her sleeve. Even Keller looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly as he adjusted his glasses.
Grant stood watching them, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, feeling a profound, terrifying sense of peace settle over him for the first time in seven years.
He walked over to the kitchen island where his phone lay. He picked it up and dialed a number he hadn't dialed in years. A number he had memorized so thoroughly it was burned into his memory like a scar.
It rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Hello?”
The voice was older, softer, tired with the weight of years, but the moment it hit his ears, the world stopped spinning.
“Claire,” Grant said, his voice barely above a whisper.
A sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. The absolute silence that followed was heavier than any boardroom standoff he had ever faced.
“Grant?” she breathed, disbelief fracturing her tone. “How... how did you get this number?”
“It doesn't matter,” Grant said, looking across the room at Sophie and Luke, who were now sharing a blanket on the sofa, eating sugar cookies Marian had brought them. “What matters is that you need to book the next flight to Chicago.”
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“Chicago? Have you lost your mind? Why would I ever come back there?”
“Because your children are here, Claire,” Grant said steadily, his eyes welling with fresh tears. “And I am finally ready to listen to everything you have to say.”
