Chapter 5 - The Silent Visitor
Mark stopped dead in his tracks. "A boy visited this house?"
Elena clutched Maya tighter, her voice dropping to a terrified whisper. "About four weeks ago. You were in Chicago on business, Mr. Mark. A black town car pulled into the driveway. An older man brought a young boy, maybe five or six years old, to the iron gate."
"What did Claire do?" Mark demanded, stepping closer.
"She went outside. She was screaming at the man, but she wouldn't look at the boy. The poor child looked so frightened. He had dark hair, just like..." Elena hesitated, her eyes flickering over Mark’s face. "He looked like you, sir. Exactly like you."
The room seemed to tilt. Mark grasped the kitchen counter for support. A son. He had a son he knew nothing about, hidden away by his own father and the woman he had sworn to love. The cruelty Claire had shown Maya suddenly took on an even darker dimension—was Maya a surrogate victim for a resentment that ran far deeper?
"Who was the man with him, Elena? Did you see his face?"
"No, sir. He wore a dark coat and hat. But he handed Mrs. Claire a yellow envelope before they drove away. After they left, Mrs. Claire drank half a bottle of wine and locked herself in Maya’s room. That was the first time I heard Maya crying behind a closed door."
Guilt, hot and suffocating, tore through Mark’s chest. While he had been building his corporate career, flying between conferences, his daughter had been enduring subtle torment, and his forgotten son was being traded like contraband.
Mark pulled out his phone. His hands were shaking as he dialed his father’s private line. The phone rang once, twice, three times. Finally, the deep, gravelly voice of Arthur Sterling filled the speaker.
"Mark? It's past nine. What is it?"
"Where is he, Dad?" Mark asked, his voice shaking with absolute rage. "Where is my son?"
May you like
A heavy, deliberate pause settled over the line. Arthur didn't ask what he meant. He didn't deny it.
"I see Claire finally cracked," Arthur said coldly. "Don't do anything foolish, Mark. Meet me at the boathouse in thirty minutes. Alone. If you bring the authorities, you will never see that boy alive."
