Chapter 2
The next morning dawned under a fine rain that blurred the school windows into streaks of gray. Mariah arrived early, hair still damp, breath quick from running.
She organized the meeting room meticulously: folders of educational projects arranged in perfect rows, bottles of water, homemade cookies the lunch lady had baked specially.
“Everything has to be perfect,” she murmured, smoothing her only formal skirt.
At exactly ten o’clock, Principal Davidson appeared at the secretaries’ door. “They’ve arrived, Mariah. Let’s welcome them.”
Mariah’s heart skipped when she saw the man step through the main gate. Even beneath the black umbrella held by an assistant, she would have recognized that bearing anywhere — that confident stride, that particular way of occupying the world. Ethan Blackwood. Exactly like the photograph in her drawer, only with shorter hair and a shadow of stubble that made him look even more formidable.
“Gentlemen, this is Mariah Olsen, our executive secretary. She will accompany you during the visit,” Ms. Davidson said.
Mariah felt the ground dissolve beneath her feet. Her hand trembled as she extended it.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Olsen,” Ethan said, with no sign of recognition in his eyes.
She swallowed. “The pleasure is mine, Mr. Blackwood.”
For the next hour she led the group through the corridors — classrooms, a computer lab with five working machines, a small library. Her professional voice concealed the storm inside her flawlessly. She had practiced composure for years. It held.
“And this is our music room,” she said, opening a door to a modest space where used instruments were arranged with care. “A project we began two years ago with community donations.”
Her phone vibrated. A message from Ms. Jenkins.
Leo has a fever. Need to take him to the clinic urgently.
The color drained from Mariah’s face.
“Excuse me,” she murmured to the principal. “I have a family emergency.”
Before she could move, Ms. Jenkins appeared at the end of the hallway, panting, Leo in her arms. The boy was red-faced, whimpering, clearly burning.
“I’m sorry, Mariah. I couldn’t get a taxi, and the clinic is right next door. I thought it best to bring him to you.”
Mariah rushed forward, forgetting the visit completely. “Oh, my God. He’s burning up,” she said, taking her son into her arms.
Ethan approached, drawn by the commotion. “Any problem? Can we help?”
And then his eyes fell on little Leo — who was looking directly at him, with the same intense green eyes Ethan saw every morning in his own mirror.
The businessman froze. Utter perplexity crossed his face.
“Is… is that your son?” he asked, his voice suddenly hoarse.
“Yes,” Mariah replied, torn between concern for Leo and dread of what was happening. “I need to take him to the doctor.”
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“I’ll take you both,” Ethan said immediately, surprising everyone. “My car is at the door.”
On the silent ride to the nearest private hospital — not the neighborhood clinic — Mariah held Leo against her chest while Ethan watched them in the rearview mirror, driving himself. Unspoken questions hung in the air, heavy as storm clouds.
