Chapter 4
The silence that followed was suffocating. Ryan remained frozen on his knees, his broad shoulders stiffening as if he had just taken a bullet to the chest. The little girl slowly lifted her tear-filled eyes toward him, her breathing ragged. She reached a trembling, filthy hand toward his face, her tiny fingers brushing against the rough stubble on his jawline.
"Daddy," she repeated, her voice cracking with exhaustion and raw emotion.
Ryan stared at her, utterly stunned. His mind, usually sharp enough to outmaneuver federal agents and rival crime syndicates, ground to a complete halt. He studied her fair skin, the messy brown hair, the specific shape of her nose. It was like looking at a ghost.
"Who are you?" Ryan whispered, the words barely escaping his lips.
The child sniffled, her hand dropping back to her side. She looked down at the floor, shivering in her oversized t-shirt. "You told me to wait," she murmured. "You said you would come back."
"I... I don't know you," Ryan said, his voice laced with a desperate, frantic confusion. He slowly turned his shocked expression toward Emily, looking for an anchor, looking for some rational explanation.
Emily stood completely frozen beside them, her face pale. She stared at the child, and then her eyes shifted to Ryan. For a split second, Ryan saw something flash in his wife’s perceptive eyes—not just shock, but a terrifying, guarded calculation.
"Emily," Ryan said, his voice hardening slightly as he stood up. He brushed the drywall dust from his black suit. "Emily, what is this? How long has she been in there?"
"Don't look at me like that!" Emily snapped, stepping back defensively, her hands coming up to her cream blouse. "You think I knew about this? You think I would let a starving child live inside the walls of my own house?"
"She called me Daddy," Ryan shot back, his volume rising. "She has my eyes, Emily! Look at her!"
"I am looking at her!" Emily yelled, tears welling in her own eyes. "And I have never seen her before in my life! You are the one with the past, Ryan! You are the one with secrets, not me!"
Lily, frightened by the sudden shouting, let go of the girl's hand and ran to hide her face against Emily's dark trousers. "Stop yelling!" Lily cried.
Ryan took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing his legendary composure back into place. He looked down at the little girl, who had curled into a tight ball on the hardwood floor, terrified of the noise.
"Okay. Okay, we stop yelling," Ryan said firmly. He crouched back down. "Come here, sweetheart. Let's get you out of this hallway."
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He gently scooped the frail child into his arms. She weighed almost nothing. As she rested her messy brown head against his dark dress shirt, Ryan looked at his wife.
"We are going to the kitchen," Ryan ordered. "Get her some water. And then, we are going to figure out exactly who put her inside my walls."
