Here it is,” Eli said politely. “Thank you, sir.”
“Wait,” Lucas replied, a sigh audible in his voice.
Before he could say anything, the door opened.
And there he was.
Marianne Carter, thinner than he remembered, with fine lines around her eyes, her hands rough from years of honest work… but undoubtedly the same woman he had once laughed with over burnt coffee and impossible dreams.
“Eli!” she shouted, her relief instantly turning to fear when she saw the car and the man who had gotten out of it. “What are you doing here?”
His gaze locked on Lucas, and the blood drained from his face.
“Stay away from my son!” he said, pulling Eli closer.
“Marianne,” Lucas said gently, “please. I need to understand.”
He let out a bitter, sharp laugh.
“Do you understand? After ten years?”
Eli looked from one to the other, confused.
“Mom, I just took you home,” he said. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Marianne clenched her jaw.
“Come in!” he ordered his son firmly. “Now!”
As the door closed, there was a creak.
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