Chapter 9: What Richard Did Next
He moved faster than Arthur expected.
By noon, a letter had arrived from Richard's solicitor — hand-delivered, which was meant to be intimidating.
Margaret called while Arthur was reading it.
"I've seen it," she said.
"He's claiming the agreement is valid, that Sarah entered it freely, and that any attempt to establish paternity or inheritance rights for the children constitutes harassment of his client." A pause.
"He's also filed a preliminary injunction to prevent the children from being introduced into Harrison family legal documents."
"Can he do that?"
"He filed it.
Whether it holds is a different question.
I'll have a response submitted by end of day." Her voice was steady.
"Arthur.
He's scared.
This is what scared men do.
It looks aggressive but it's defensive.
He's trying to build walls before we can build a case."
"What do we need?"
"The voicemail.
Sarah's testimony, if she's strong enough to give it.
And ideally — a DNA confirmation, though with the documents you have, it may not even be necessary."
"I'll talk to Sarah this afternoon."
"One more thing," Margaret said.
"He's contacted two journalists.
I have a source who flagged it.
He's going to try to get ahead of the story — frame it as a woman making false claims against a prominent family."
Arthur's hand tightened on the phone.
"Can we move faster than him?"
"We already are," Margaret said.
"Leave the press to me."
He hung up.
Leo was in the doorway of the sitting room.
"Is someone trying to stop you?" Leo asked.
Arthur looked at the boy.
He hadn't heard the call — he'd been across the room.
But he had clearly heard enough.
"Someone is trying," Arthur said.
"They won't succeed."
Leo considered this.
"Is it because of us?
Are we causing trouble for you?"
Arthur crossed the room and crouched down in front of the boy — the same way he had in the diner, eye to eye.
"Listen to me," he said.
"You walked across the city alone at night to find me.
You kept your sister safe.
You carried that envelope without opening it because your mother asked you to." He held Leo's gaze.
"You didn't cause trouble.
You showed up.
That's the bravest thing a person can do."
Leo's composure held for exactly three more seconds.
Then his chin dropped and his eyes filled and he pressed the back of his hand against his mouth.
Arthur put his arms around the boy.
Leo held on.
He cried quietly, the way Claire had described Grace crying the night before — no noise, just tears, the kind of crying that comes from holding something for too long.
Arthur held on until it stopped.
"Okay," Leo said finally, pulling back and wiping his face with his sleeve.
He straightened up.
Composed himself with a speed that was both impressive and heartbreaking.
"Okay," Arthur said.
"Can we go see Mama now?"
"Yes," Arthur said.
"Right now."
They arrived at Mercy General at two in the afternoon — Arthur, Daniel, Ellen, Leo, and Grace.
The nurse at the palliative unit recognized Arthur and waved them through.
Sarah was awake.
She had been told they were coming.
She had asked the nurse to help her sit up.
When Grace came through the door and saw her mother, she stopped in the doorway.
Then she crossed the room in four running steps and climbed carefully onto the bed, and Sarah's arms came around her, and neither of them said anything for a long time.
Leo stood at the foot of the bed.
He was holding the stuffed rabbit — Grace had left it behind in her rush, and he'd picked it up without thinking.
"Hi, Mama," he said.
"Hi, my love," Sarah said over Grace's head.
Her voice was rough.
"Come here."
He came.
She held both of them.
Her eyes closed.
Arthur and Daniel stood near the door.
Ellen had her hand pressed over her mouth.
After a while, Sarah looked up at Arthur.
"He came to the hospital again this morning," she said.
"Richard.
Security turned him away — I'd left instructions.
But he was here."
Arthur nodded.
"Margaret is handling it."
"I sent her the voicemail." Sarah's voice steadied.
"And I gave a written statement this morning.
The nurse helped me.
It's already with your lawyer."
Arthur looked at her.
"You didn't have to do that today."
"Yes," she said quietly, "I did.
I don't know how many good mornings I have left.
I'm not wasting them." She looked down at her children.
"I want this finished before—" She stopped.
"I want to know they're safe.
I want to know it's done."
Leo lifted his head from her shoulder.
"It's going to be done, Mama," he said.
"Arthur said so."
Sarah looked at Arthur over her son's head.
He nodded once.
She closed her eyes and held her children, and for the first time since Arthur had walked into that hospital room, she looked something close to peaceful.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
A message from Margaret.
*Injunction denied.
Judge reviewed the documents.
Richard's filing dismissed.
Call me when you can.*
Arthur read it twice.
Then he put his phone away and didn't say anything.
May you like
There would be time for that later.
Right now, the room was quiet, and Sarah was holding her children, and that was enough.
