2 MITCHELL
The clinking of silverware filled the silence. Luke was across from me, pushing his food around his plate with a frown. He hadn’t taken a single bite.
Isabella—that was her name—sat beside him, quiet, poised, focused.
“Luke, eat your dinner,” I said, sounding harsher than I intended.
He ignored me, staring down at his plate.
I tightened my grip on the fork, frustration bubbling inside me. How was he supposed to grow if he refused to eat? “Luke, I said eat.”
“I don’t want it!” Luke snapped, shoving the plate away so hard it nearly fell off the table.
The little girl’s eyes went wide at the sight.
Before I could say anything, Isabella leaned forward, her voice soft. “Luke,” she said, “can you help me with something?”
Luke barely looked at her, his small fists clenching at his sides. He was on edge, the tantrum building again like a storm. I could see it in how his chest heaved, his face reddening.
“I don’t want to!” he yelled suddenly, slamming his fists onto the table. I started to stand, prepared to take control, but Isabella’s voice stopped me.
“Luke,” she said again, her tone never wavering, “do you want to hear a secret?”
Luke paused, his fists still planted on the table, but his eyes flickered to hers. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “What?”
“Do you know how superheroes get their power?”
“Yes. Spider bites,” he huffed.
Isabella smiled softly. “That’s just in the movies. They need food to make their superpowers better. Food bites make them stronger. Try it,” she said. “One bite of that salad makes a muscle start to grow.”
His eyes stayed on her, wary but curious. He looked at his tiny bicep and jammed a mouthful of lettuce in his mouth. Then he looked at his bicep again.
“Not working,” he muttered, chewing.
She nodded patiently. “Really? Because I think you look stronger already. Imagine what two bites will do.”
For a second, I thought Luke would explode again. I expected the yelling and the slamming of fists on the table to return. But instead, he picked up his fork, staring at it like it was some foreign object. Slowly, he took a small piece before he jammed another bite of food in.
I blinked, completely thrown off. I sat back, speechless. I didn’t understand what had just happened or how she had managed to do it.
Dinner dragged on. I tried to focus on the meal before me, but my eyes kept drifting back to Isabella. Every so often, she’d lean toward Luke, saying something that made him nod.
There was something about the way she seemed to fit into this house despite having never been here. There was a familiarity to her. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I should know her.
“Luke,” she encouraged, “you’ve got this.”
Luke looked up at her, his eyes calmer now, as if the tantrum had never happened. He pumped his arm and gave her a small smile before returning to his food.
The sight of it hit me hard. I couldn’t remember the last time he smiled like that. Not around me, anyway.
It bothered me. How could this stranger walk in here and connect with Luke in ways I never could? I tried. I tried so hard, but it was always like Luke was a step ahead of me, too far, out of reach. Yet here Isabella was, only hours into this job, and already she had him smiling.
I felt my jaw clench. I reached for my glass of wine, my mind still buzzing with questions I couldn’t answer. That’s when it happened. My hand brushed the edge of the glass too fast, and before I could stop it, the glass tipped over.
The red wine spilled across the table, spreading fast, soaking into the white tablecloth. Luke’s eyes widened, the little girl yelped, and I cursed under my breath, reaching for the napkin.
Before I could clean it, Mrs. Grey had rushed over with a napkin. My face was flushed. I was embarrassed and just wanted out of this awkward meal. I managed a polite retreat, urging them to enjoy their meal.
The following day was Saturday. I was in my study and overheard the little girl, Olivia, asking Isabella if she could play in the garden. To my surprise, I heard Luke’s voice asking for the same.
Soon, I saw them through the window as they moved outside, their figures small but clear. Olivia ran ahead, laughing. Luke followed close behind, quieter but still drawn to the excitement. I caught him glancing at his arm and squeezing it into a muscle pose.
My eyes stayed on them—more specifically, on Isabella. Her long legs swung her skirt as she walked slowly, letting the kids lead the way.
I leaned against the window frame, watching as they reached the far side of the garden. I could only see Olivia’s ponytail as she stooped over to pick flowers. Luke stayed a few steps behind her, unsure. But he was watching her—maybe even thinking about joining in.
Then it happened.
I saw it before I heard it—the way Luke’s foot caught on a root, the stumble, and then the fall. It was quick but hard, and my chest tightened instantly. He hit the ground.
Isabella rushed to his side, dropping down to her knees beside him. I couldn’t hear what she said, but I saw how her hands moved gently over his leg, checking the scrape. Luke’s face was twisted in pain, but he wasn’t crying.
I watched as she wiped the dirt from his knee with the edge of her sleeve.
“Are you okay?” I could see her mouth the words, her hand still on Luke’s leg.
Luke’s scrunched-up face softened slightly, and he finally nodded.
I felt a strange mix of emotions watching them. I was relieved, of course. Luke was okay. Isabella stood up, helping him to his feet. He winced a little but didn’t resist when she touched his shoulder.
They stood there for a moment, just the two of them. Then Olivia ran back to hand Luke a flower. I expected him to throw it to the ground, but he took it, and I could see his nod from here.
I was still staring out the window when my phone rang. I glanced at the screen—Brad, my close friend and business partner.
“Who’s this? I don’t recognize this number,” I said, using his line.
“Mitch, no time for jokes. It’s about the energy contract,” Brad replied. “The investors aren’t convinced about the expansion into solar grids in the Midwest. They’re asking for more projections, more time.”
I clenched my jaw and started pacing. “More time? We’ve been in talks for months. I’ve given them everything they need. This deal should’ve been sealed last week.”
“They’re worried about the cost of infrastructure,” Brad continued. “They think it’s too high with the current market volatility. They want us to slow down.”
I could feel my pulse quicken. “I don’t care about their concerns. The numbers are solid. We’ve already crunched the data. Solar is the future, and they know that.”
“You and I know that. But they’re asking for an extended review period.”
I could feel the weight of it all pressing down on me. This solar expansion was supposed to push Marks Energy to the next level. I had built my name on oil and gas, but the future was shifting, and I wasn’t about to let the company fall behind. This deal was critical.
“They can have another week,” I said through gritted teeth. “But no more. If they can’t see the potential, I’ll find others who can.”
“Understood. I’ll let them know.” Brad hesitated. “Are you sure you want to push this hard? The last thing we need is for them to pull out.”
“I’m not losing this deal, Brad. Handle it.”
“Sure,” he replied.
We talked a bit more before hanging up. I tossed the phone onto the desk and continued to pace. My temper simmered just below the surface. Months of work, endless negotiations, and now this: investors questioning what a golden opportunity was clearly.
They didn’t belong in my circle if they couldn’t see how vital it was to shift to renewables. The deal should’ve been closed by now, but here I was, still putting out fires.
My pacing slowed and brought me to the window again, but the garden was empty now. They must be back inside. I listened for the thuds of some object Luke usually threw against his bedroom wall.
Nothing. Silence.