Chapter 4 #2
His face breaks open. Pain, loss, and love. He takes a careful step closer, then another. He stops a foot away from the bed, pulling off his black gloves slowly.
“I—I can’t believe it’s you,” he breathes out. “I’ve imagined this moment so many times, but… never like this.”
Maeve shifts on the edge of the bed, protective. Her eyes flicker from him to me. Lucian notices, nods to her.
“Can I hug you? It’s alright if you’re not comfortable.”
Another memory flashes across my mind. My scraped knee, he kissed my tears away, cleaned my cut, and held me until I felt better.
“Yes.” My voice is small.
He takes the last few steps and his arms wrap around me.
It’s a foreign feeling at first. His scent fills my nose, and its familiar. Comforting. A tear slips down my cheek. This feeling, this love, comfort, was ripped away from me. My body slowly relaxes in his hold.
He pulls back, brushing his thumb across my cheek, brushing my tears away.
“You’re so grown up,” he whispers then shakes his head. “I’ve missed you so much.”
He pulls me back into his arms, and I let him. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Maeve wiping at her face.
He lets me go but his hands linger on my arms for a bit longer. Then moves the chair closer to the bed.
“Happy late eighteenth birthday.” His smile is small.
My fingers twitch underneath the blanket. My chest flutters.
“Thanks.”
Lucian nods once, his jaw tight. “I never wanted this to be how I found you. In a hospital bed. Hurt.” He pauses, clenching his jaw and taking a slow breath.
“You’ve been through things no child should ever endure.
And I know I can’t change that. But I can promise you this, Gracie…
I need you to hear this and believe me when I say I will do everything in my power to protect you. ”
I want to believe him. God, I want to. But I’ve heard promises before. From people who were supposed to love me. Still, something in his eyes makes my heart skip, not fear this time, but hope.
Recognition. Like he’s known me all along. Like I’ve known him.
There’s something about how he says the words, like this isn’t a father making an empty promise, it’s a man with means and power.
I blink fast, throat closing again. He doesn’t say ‘I’m sorry’. He doesn’t say ‘You’re safe now’ like some empty comfort. He tells me the only thing I want and need to hear.
“Why didn’t you keep looking for me?” It comes out accusatory.
He freezes for a second then his shoulders drop. “Oh, Gracie, I did. I hired private investigators and they couldn’t find what happened to you. And the news… people eventually move on. But I promise you I never moved on. I prayed every day that I’d find you.”
I look at him, his shoulders relaxed, his face open and the sincerity in his eyes is easy to see.
“Why do you keep calling her ‘Gracie’?” Maeve is staring a hole into his head.
He smiles at her and then turns to me. “We named you after my mom. She died when I was twenty. She was an amazing woman. When you were little, I was the only one you allowed to call you Gracie.”
My chest warms.
“I’m not here to take anything from you.” He holds up his hands. “Not your name. Not your friends. Not your life. If you want me to call you Isobel instead, I can.”
“No, it’s okay. I like Gracie, but only you.” I smile.
A smile creeps across his face as if those words make him the happiest man in the world.
“Gracie it is then.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“Mama never really talked about you.”
Lucian’s jaw flexes.
“She never said your name. Not once. Just… looked over her shoulder all the time. I remember now she said we were going on vacation.”
I pause, fingers twisting in the sheets. “I asked when I was little. Where you were? She just told me to drop it. Said you were dangerous. That we had to keep moving.”
I can see the tension in every line of his body.
“She said that we had to hide. But I didn’t know from who,” I add.
His voice is low. Controlled. “She told me that she was taking you out for the day. A trip to the park. She never came back.”
That doesn’t fit. Doesn’t track. But… it explains the fear. The silence. The weight in my mother’s eyes whenever I asked where I came from.
“Why?” I whisper. “Why would she run if you weren’t hurting her?”
Lucian doesn’t speak for a moment. “She was in trouble. She didn’t trust me enough to let me help.” His voice tightens. “Or maybe she didn’t want to be saved. I don’t know. I’ve asked myself that question a thousand times.”
A breath catches in my throat.
“She took you to punish me,” he says, quieter now. “And I let that punishment change me. But I never stopped searching. Never stopped hoping.”
I hold his gaze, swallowing roughly.
“I thought Daniel hurt you.”
He scoffs. “He couldn’t hurt me, so he did the only thing he could think of. He took you. I just… I wanted you to be safe. I wanted to be your father. It got harder as time passed. Not knowing what you looked like, what kind of person you were growing up to be.”
The ache in my chest blooms again. Not pain. Not quite hope, either. Just the sharp, aching shape of something I’ve never had. The reality that an entirely different life was taken from me.
“What happens now?” I ask, my voice barely louder than a breath.
Lucian’s expression doesn’t shift, but something in his posture eases.
“You’re eighteen now, so what you do next… that’s something only you can decide. I want you to come with me, Gracie. But I won’t force you.”
“You’re giving me a choice?” I blink.
His chin dips. “You’ve had too many choices taken from you. That ends here. I want to give you the world. But if you’re happy here, that’s all I can count on.”
I don’t know what to say. There are so many feelings tangled up inside me: anger, relief, disbelief.
“But… I don’t know you.” I pull at my finger. “I don’t know anything about you.”
“You don’t have to,” Lucian replies. “Not yet. You don’t owe me anything. But I’m offering you a home with me, a fresh start.”
Maeve’s hand tightens in mine. Lucian glances between us.
“If she wants to come visit,” he adds, “or stay for a while… That can be arranged.”
Maeve raises her eyebrows at me like, Okay, maybe he’s not the worst.
I don’t smile. But a quiet type of hope starts. Lucian waits. He doesn’t press, doesn’t try to fill the space with reassurances. That alone makes the uncertainty in me ease.
But still, I can’t say yes. Not yet.
“I… I think I need time.” I pause, the whir of the air conditioning filling the space. “To think. To figure out what I want to do.”
His expression doesn’t falter. If anything, it softens.
“Of course,” he says. “You don’t have to decide anything right away. You’ve already survived more than anyone ever should. I want you to take your time.”
I watch him stand, expecting him to leave. But he doesn’t move toward the door yet.
Lucian reaches into his coat and pulls out a small black box — sleek, matte, understated. He opens it and sets it on the tray beside my bed.
A phone.
Not just a phone — the latest model. Thin. Polished. The kind of thing kids at school would kill for. The kind of thing people like me could never even dream of touching. Brand new.
“I had it activated,” he says with a nod. “It’s yours. Fully encrypted. Private. Only your doctor and I have the number. If you want to reach me, for any reason, you can. Or don’t. That choice is yours too.”
I stare at it. I’ve used phones with prepaid minutes. This one is pristine. I don’t think I’ve ever had anything new in my life.
“Thank you.” I tear my eyes away from the device.
“I’ll let you get some rest. I can only imagine this has been quite the day for you.” He straightens his coat. “I’ll be staying nearby at the Ritz. Just a few blocks from here. Room is under Ashthorne, if you need it.”
Lucian starts toward the door again, but before he steps out, he glances back one more time.
“I meant what I said, you don’t have to be alone anymore, you have me. I’d like to come back tomorrow and get to know each other. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good.” I grin.
He returns the smile, nodding to us both.
Then he’s gone. Giving me the choice to decide which path I want to take.
The door clicks shut behind him, and for a moment, it’s just me and Maeve. The silence stretches out.
“You look just like him, except your hair is like your mom’s color.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
We fall into silence again. Maeve’s still holding my hand, but her eyes flick toward the tray.
“You gonna touch it?” she asks.
I look at the phone like it might bite me. It’s sleek and too nice. I’m not worthy of touching it.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
Maeve shifts closer and reaches for it, popping it out of the box.
“Damn,” she mutters, turning it over in her hand. “This is the one with the face recognition. These are nice.”
She hands it to me, screen still dark. I hesitate, then press the side button. It lights up. Clean, minimal home screen. Only a few apps. The background is plain. There’s one contact in the favorites list. Lucian Ashthorne. I add Maeve’s number from memory and save her in my favorites.
“I think he means it,” Maeve says after a moment. “About giving you a choice.”
I nod, thumbing the smooth edge of the phone.
“But what kind of choice is it, really?” I speak my thoughts. “Go with the rich guy I don’t know, or… what? Stay here and be nobody?”
She watches me for a beat, then says, “You don’t have to love him, Iz.
But maybe… just maybe… you get to have something different now.
Something better. Like the futures we talked about.
As much as I want you here with me, I want you to have everything.
If he can give you that, then you should get the hell out of here. ”
I just stare down at the glowing screen, my thumb hovering over the icon that could call him back with a single tap.
Freedom looks like a lot of things. Right now, it looks like a phone I didn’t ask for…
and maybe a future I might actually get to choose.
I set the phone down on the tray, still in disbelief. Maeve’s watching me, quiet. Waiting.
“I used to dream,” I say, almost without meaning to.
She tilts her head. “Yeah?”
I nod, eyes on the wall.
“When I was little… I used to dream that my dad who made waffles would find me and take me away. He’d see the bruises and save me and Mama.”
I laugh, but it’s not really a laugh. More like something breaking in half.
“But even when someone finally did say something, I just bounced around in the system. Daniel and my mom would always convince them to let me come home.”
Maeve’s hand finds mine again, no words needed. Just warmth.
“And I started thinking… maybe I wasn’t worth saving.”
I finally look at her. “But you never treated me like I was nothing. You made me realize that I could be more.”
Maeve’s throat works like she’s trying not to cry. “You’ve just been surrounded by people who didn’t deserve you.”
I blink hard. “Do you think I’ll ever stop feeling like I’m still in that house?”
“I think so,” Maeve gives me a small smile. “Maybe not right away. But you will.”
Her eyes fill with unshed tears. “Someday you’ll stop expecting the floor to collapse from out under your feet.”
I close my eyes and press my forehead to her shoulder. Just for a second.
“Thanks for not leaving.”
“Never,” she says, fierce and sure. “You’re stuck with me forever. Ride or die.”