She finally entered. The door closed behind her with a soft click that somehow felt like the beginning of something monumental.
The car pulled away from the curb and headed toward a hotel known for privacy. Owen arranged for a suite without hesitation. He ordered warm clothes, food, and a doctor to meet them as soon as possible. The staff moved quickly, either out of respect for his wealth or concern for the drenched family he walked beside.
Inside the quiet suite, the harsh fluorescent hallway lights gave way to softer golden lamps. Tess sat on the sofa, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to smooth her soaked hair. The boys clung close to her, though one of them coughed again, prompting her to rub his back.
“What are their names,” Owen asked gently, lowering himself into a nearby armchair.
“This is Jace,” she said, motioning to the quieter boy. “And this is Milo.”
The names hit him like a slow moving tide. Both boys had his eyes. The shape, the depth, even the faint green flecks near the iris. A truth he had tried not to entertain flickered sharply at the edges of his mind.
He did not ask yet. He could not. Tess needed safety first. Answers would come later.