Upstairs, voices began to rise. Doors opened. Footsteps pounded. The household was stirring with agitation, but none of it was directed at the suffering child. The commotion was about something else entirely, financial urgency, meetings, appointments, schedules. Everything except the thing that mattered most.
Janessa pressed a hand to Cody’s back. “Stand up with me. Can you do that.”
He nodded. His legs wobbled but he stood. His hand sought hers with a desperation that made her chest ache.
“You cannot stay here,” he said. His voice cracked. “They do not want me. They just want me quiet. They want me invisible.”
Janessa knew he meant his father. Bryce Bram, a billionaire investor whose face graced magazines and business programs. Bryce who owned companies and private jets and enough land to swallow small towns. Bryce who barely looked at his son. Bryce who believed money was a substitute for love.
There was also Delphine Sutter, the father’s fiancée, whose smile was a weapon sharpened by contempt. Delphine who glided through the mansion as though she owned the world. Delphine who told staff to keep Cody occupied, which was code for keep him out of sight.