Chapter 10 - The Empty Room
The house on Elm Street felt cavernous and dead without Leo. Julian walked slowly through the dark kitchen, the fluorescent glow of the streetlamp outside casting long, distorted shadows across the marble island. The brown envelope was gone, confiscated by the police as evidence, leaving only a faint smudge of dust where it had rested. He ran his hand over the cold countertop, remembering the sound of the boy's timid voice asking for a simple piece of bread.
He climbed the stairs to the second floor, pushing open the door to Leo’s tiny bedroom. The room was sparse—a single twin bed with a faded blue comforter, a wooden dresser with missing knobs, and a small stack of picture books neatly arranged on the floor. On the nightstand sat the wooden toy car Leo had accidentally left behind in the rush of the police arrival.
Julian picked up the car, turning the smooth wooden wheels in his palm. A heavy ache settled deep within his chest. For years, he had allowed Clara to isolate him in this house, letting her cold demeanor dictate the rules of their broken marriage while he buried himself in work to escape the suffocating atmosphere. He had been so blind, so wrapped up in his own grief over David’s disappearance, that he had failed to see the quiet terror the boy lived in every single day.
A sharp knock at the front door echoed through the quiet house.
Julian hurried down the stairs, his heart leaping into his throat. He pulled the door open, expecting to see Detective Miller with good news about the bank vault. Instead, standing on the porch was a middle-aged woman wearing a beige trench coat, holding a clipboard against her chest.
"Mr. Vance?" she asked formally.
"Yes," Julian said, his hope instantly deflating.
"I'm Sarah Jenkins from the Department of Child Services," she said, stepping into the entryway without waiting for an invitation. "I'm here to conduct a mandatory inspection of the secondary living quarters and retrieve any remaining personal items for Leo's temporary placement."
Julian stepped aside, gesturing toward the hallway. "The boy's room is upstairs. Most of his things are already packed in the brown duffel bag by the closet."
Sarah walked up the stairs, Julian following closely behind her. As she entered Leo's room, her eyes scanned the sparse environment with professional detachment. She picked up the wooden car from the nightstand, turning it over in her fingers.
"He's a quiet boy," Sarah observed softly, slipping the toy into her pocket. "Takes a lot to make him trust anyone after what he's been through."
"I want him back here, Ms. Jenkins," Julian said, his voice laced with fierce determination. "I am his blood. I can give him a real home."
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Sarah turned to look at him, her expression softening just a fraction. "Prove it, Mr. Vance. Because as of twenty minutes ago, Clara Vance posted bail."
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