Chapter 7
The morning light brought no relief to the tense atmosphere inside the Vance household. Arthur woke up early, the weight of his new reality pressing heavily against his chest. Downstairs, the kitchen smelled of stale coffee and burnt toast. Elena was already sitting at the kitchen island, wrapped in her shawl, sipping a cup of herbal tea while Leo sat across from her, quietly coloring in a worn comic book.
Arthur poured himself a cup of coffee, leaning against the counter. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Well enough,” Elena murmured, not looking up from her mug. “The bed is soft. Too soft, maybe. I’m used to a mattress that remembers my shape.”
Before Arthur could reply, the back door clicked open, and Sarah walked in from her morning jog. Her breathing was even, her face flushed with exertion, but her eyes were ice cold as she took in the scene at the island. She grabbed a towel from the rack, wiped her face, and tossed it into the laundry basket with deliberate force.
“Leo needs to be enrolled in school,” Sarah said bluntly, addressing Arthur as if Elena weren't sitting right beside them. “He missed the first three weeks of the semester. I looked up the district guidelines. We need vaccination records and proof of residence.”
Elena looked up, her sharp eyes locking onto Sarah’s. “I have his records in the suitcase. I kept everything waterproofed in a plastic folder. I always knew we might have to move fast.”
Sarah paused, a flicker of reluctant empathy crossing her features before she hardened her expression again. “I’ll help you fill out the paperwork this morning. Arthur has to go into the office; there’s a crisis with one of the commercial accounts.”
“I can stay home today,” Arthur offered immediately.
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“No, you can’t,” Sarah snapped, turning to face him fully. “Go to work, Arthur. Go pretend your life hasn't completely imploded. Deal with your clients. Leave us to deal with the reality here.”
Arthur knew better than to argue. He grabbed his briefcase from the hallway closet and walked toward the front door. As he opened it, he caught a glimpse of Leo standing by the living room archway, watching him with those big, hopeful hazel eyes. The image of the boy standing in the park with the leather bracelet flashed in Arthur’s mind. He realized that no matter how chaotic his office job was, the real work—the work of healing twenty-four years of absence—was happening right here in this house, and he was failing at it.
