Chapter 9 - The Evacuation of the Hearth
Edward walked back down the corridor with long, steady strides.
He did not look at the crumpled, groaning figure of Julian lying in the gray puddle. He did not look at the bank slip or the scattered hundred-dollar bills.
He reached the velvet bench beneath the helical staircase.
Maya was sitting exactly where he had placed her, her small arms wrapped tightly around Leo’s torso, her chin resting on her brother's forehead, weeping silently into the baby's blanket. When she saw Edward’s shadow fall across her, she looked up, her eyes wide with terror that the shouting had brought the police.
"Daddy?" she whispered.
Edward sank to one knee before her.
"It's over, sweetheart," Edward said, his voice entirely gentle, smooth, and warm. "The keys are right here. We're going to the truck."
He reached out and lifted Leo into his left arm. The baby was burning, his small forehead slick with cold perspiration, his breathing weak and erratic. With his right arm, Edward gathered Maya against his chest, lifting her up from the bench, holding both children against his body with immovable, ironclad security.
He walked toward the front entrance.
As he crossed the foyer, his boots splashing through the edge of the gray puddle, Julian let out a weak, rattling groan from the corridor floor.
"Edward..." Julian wheezed, his voice choked with blood and bile, clawing at the wall to pull his torso upward. "You can't... you can't leave me here... my ribs... I can't breathe..."
Edward stopped at the threshold of the double doors.
He did not turn around. He did not look back into the house that had been desecrated by greed and cruelty.
"The house is locked, Julian," Edward said, his voice carrying clearly back through the marble hall. "The alarm is set on an automated thirty-minute perimeter lockdown. The local sheriff's department and the state police have already received the silent transponder signal from my truck's security link. They will be here in twelve minutes."
Julian’s face went chalk-white. "Ed! No! The fraud unit... they'll execute the federal warrant..."
"You have twelve minutes to crawl to the gate," Edward said softly. "I suggest you start moving."
Edward pushed the heavy wrought-iron door open with his shoulder, stepping out onto the stone portico into the clean, crisp autumn sunlight.
The air outside was cold, smelling of pine needles, wet leaves, and open sky.
Edward walked down the wide limestone steps toward his heavy four-wheel-drive truck idling in the circular driveway. He unlocked the passenger door, carefully set Maya into the front bucket seat, and buckled her in with the heavy leather strap. He placed Leo into the rear-facing infant safety seat, adjusting the padded harness over the baby's burning chest, tucking the pink blanket securely around his small feet.
He climbed into the driver's seat, started the heavy eight-cylinder engine with a low, thunderous rumble, and pulled the gear selector into drive.
Maya reached across the console with her small, chapped hand, her fingers finding the sleeve of his white shirt, gripping the linen tightly.
"Daddy?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Edward turned his head, his pale gray eyes filled with a boundless, unbreakable devotion that no amount of betrayal could ever extinguish. He reached out and wrapped his large, warm hand completely around her small fingers.
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"I've got you, Maya," Edward said softly. "I've got both of you. You're never going back to that hall."
He accelerated down the long, paved driveway, the tires crunching through the gravel, leaving the wrought-iron gates of the estate wide open behind them as the truck sped toward the highway and the hospital ahead.
