Chapter 3 - THE SHADOW OF RICHARD
The next morning, the winter sun bled a pale gold through the kitchen blinds. The smell of pancakes filled the house—a luxury Erica and Emma ate with a frantic, quiet speed that told Isaac everything about their past.
"Eat slow, girls," Isaac said gently, placing a plate of fresh strawberries on the table. "There's plenty more. Nobody is going to take it away from you."
Erica paused, her fork hovering in mid-air. "Our stepdad... Richard... he used to lock the pantry," she said in a tiny voice. "If we cried because we were hungry, he made us stand outside on the porch in our undershirts."
Isaac gripped the edge of the kitchen counter so hard his knuckles turned white. He forced a soft smile for the girls, but inside, a dark, dangerous fire was burning.
An hour later, the front door opened, and Brenda, the court-appointed child protective worker, walked in carrying a thick manila folder. She looked exhausted, her face lined with the stress of a system bursting at the seams.
"Isaac, we need to talk," Brenda said quietly, gesturing toward the porch.
Isaac stepped outside into the crisp morning air, closing the front door behind him so the kids wouldn't hear.
"I ran their names through the state database," Brenda said, leaning against the wooden railing. "Their mother was Clara Vance. She passed away twenty-four months ago from respiratory failure at a private care facility in Ohio. The legal guardian on record is her husband... Richard Miller."
"He isn't their father," Isaac spat, his voice laced with venom. "He left them behind a dumpster on Christmas Eve, Brenda! He left eight-year-old children to freeze to death!"
"I know, Isaac! I know," Brenda sighed, rubbing her temples. "I've filed an emergency warrant for his arrest for child endangerment and abandonment. But Richard Miller isn't just some deadbeat. He’s a prominent real estate developer with high-powered lawyers. He already called the precinct this morning, claiming the girls 'ran away' while he was loading groceries, and he accused you of kidnapping them."
Isaac let out a cold, bitter laugh. "Kidnapping? I found them shivering on trash!"
"It gets worse," Brenda continued, lowering her voice. "Richard filed an emergency petition demanding the police return the girls to his custody immediately. He claims you are an unstable stranger holding his stepdaughters hostage."
Isaac leaned in close, his green eyes flashing with deadly intensity. "Brenda... Clara didn't leave me nine years ago because she wanted to. Richard took her. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but those girls carry my locket. Look at their eyes. Look at their faces."
May you like
Brenda blinked, startled. "What are you saying?"
"I want a DNA test," Isaac commanded. "Expedited. Today. Because those aren't just abandoned children, Brenda. Those are my daughters."
