Chapter 4 - THE TUG OF THE CUFF
Nora, completely oblivious to the silent thunderstorm raging between the two adults above her, decided to demonstrate her executive expertise once again.
She planted her small yellow shoes firmly on the marble, puffed out her chest beneath her yellow cardigan, and lifted her left hand. With her thumb and forefinger, she gave a tiny, precise, upward tug to the cuff of her left sleeve—a distinct, sharp physical habit designed to settle a shirt cuff beneath a suit jacket.
It was a small, three-millisecond physical motion.
Adrian’s entire body went rigid.
The smile completely vanished from his face. The warmth in his eyes turned into a cold, shocked, razor-sharp focus.
That gesture was not a common childhood habit. It was not something a four-year-old picked up from watching television.
It was James's signature tick.
Whenever James Cole was about to pitch a new technology acquisition, whenever he was nervous before a speech, or whenever he was making a joke at a formal family dinner, he would plant his feet, lift his left hand, and give that exact same tiny, sharp tug to his left shirt cuff. Adrian had watched his younger brother perform that exact movement thousands of times over thirty years.
Adrian stared at the child's tiny wrist.
Slowly, agonizingly, Adrian turned his head up toward Emma.
The silence in the grand foyer was absolute. Mrs. Holloway remained frozen in the dining room doorway; the footmen held their breath.
Adrian’s dark eyes locked onto Emma’s pale, trembling face with the crushing weight of an interrogation.
"Where did she learn that?" Adrian asked. His voice was low, flat, and stripped of all casual warmth.
Emma felt as if the marble floor were dissolving beneath her feet. She parted her lips to speak, to offer a quick, plausible lie—that Nora watched the butler, that she copied the television, that it was just a coincidence—but her throat choked on the air. No words came out.
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Nora looked between her frozen mother and the tall man crouching beside her, her innocent smile remaining bright and bright.
"I do it like Daddy," Nora chirped happily, completely unaware of the terrifying gravity of her words. "Daddy did it when he was fast."
