Time seemed to fold in on itself.
“Oh my Lord…” she whispered. “Little Luke?”
No business loss had ever shaken him. But seeing her like this—frail, forgotten, shrinking into the concrete—nearly broke him.
“You raised me,” Lucas said. “When no one else did.”
Lillian lowered her eyes. “That was a long time ago, baby.”
Lucas took in her trembling hands, her hunched shoulders, the way she tried to disappear.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
She paused. “Life happened.”
He reached for his wallet. She flinched.
He stopped.
Instead, Lucas stood and made one phone call.
“Bring the car back,” he said sharply. “Now.”
Then he looked at her.
“You’re coming with me.”
She shook her head. “I can’t—”
“I know what my father did to you,” he said softly.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
Moments later, the car arrived. Lucas silenced his assistant with a raised hand.
“Cancel everything. Today.”
He offered Lillian his hand. She hesitated.
“I don’t want to be charity,” she said.
“You were never charity,” Lucas replied. “You were family.”
That did it.
He didn’t take her to a hotel.
He took her home.