Chapter 6: The Man at the Door
They stayed at Ryan's brother's house that night.
Marcus lived forty minutes outside the city, in a house with a long driveway and a dog that barked at everything.
Ryan had always found the barking irritating.
That night, he was grateful for it.
He put Mia and Lily in the spare room.
Lily insisted on the floor so Mia could have the bed.
Ryan found an air mattress in the garage and set it up without argument.
By nine o'clock both girls were asleep, Gerald the rabbit tucked under Mia's arm.
Ryan sat at Marcus's kitchen table with a cup of tea he wasn't drinking.
Marcus sat across from him.
He was three years older than Ryan, quieter, steadier.
He had listened to the whole story without speaking.
Now he said: "Did you know?
Any of it?
Before tonight?"
"No."
"Nothing felt off?"
Ryan thought about it honestly.
"Sandra was home more than I expected, after Lily was born.
I thought she just wanted to be present.
She was protective of the house — didn't like people coming over unannounced.
I thought that was just her personality." He looked at his hands.
"I thought I knew her."
Marcus said nothing.
"She kept a child hidden in our house for three years, Marcus."
"I know."
"She kept Claire's child hidden from me.
While I was grieving Claire.
While I thought Claire had left nothing behind." Ryan's voice broke on the last word.
He pressed his fist to his mouth and got it back under control.
"Mia could have told me who her mother was.
She could have told me the first day I found her.
But she didn't, because Sandra had trained her not to."
Marcus reached across the table and gripped Ryan's shoulder once, hard.
Then he let go.
"What does Tom say?" he asked.
"He says we need documentation.
Birth certificate.
Medical records if any exist.
Any evidence of Derek Paulson's history." Ryan looked up.
"He also said I should consider filing for emergency guardianship.
Quickly.
Before Derek can make a move."
"Do it."
"Sandra won't like it."
"Sandra doesn't get a vote on this one," Marcus said.
"Not after what she did."
Ryan looked toward the hallway.
Sandra was in the other spare room.
She had barely spoken since they left the house.
He didn't know if she was frightened or calculating, and he was no longer sure he could tell the difference.
His phone buzzed on the table.
He looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
He answered.
"Mr.
Calloway." The voice was smooth, unhurried.
A man who was used to being listened to.
"My name is Derek Paulson.
I think it's time we had a conversation."
Ryan's hand tightened on the phone.
Across the table, Marcus went still.
"How did you get this number?" Ryan said.
"That's not really important.
What's important is that you have something that belongs to me."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I think you do." A pause.
"I know you found her tonight.
I know you've already spoken to a solicitor.
I want you to understand something, Mr.
Calloway.
Mia is my daughter.
Legally, morally, in every way that matters.
And I will have her back."
Ryan stood up from the table.
He walked to the kitchen window and looked out at the dark driveway.
"She doesn't know you."
"That's your wife's fault.
Not mine."
"She's a child who has been through enough."
"Then don't make this harder than it needs to be." The smoothness in Derek's voice had an edge now, just barely.
"I'm not an unreasonable man.
I'm willing to discuss this civilly.
But if you force me to go through the courts, I will.
And I have resources you don't."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's information." Another pause.
"Think about what's best for Mia.
I'll be in touch."
The line went d*ad.
Ryan stood at the window for a long moment.
Then he turned around.
Marcus was already on his feet.
"Who was that?"
"Derek Paulson."
Marcus's face went hard.
"He has your number."
"He has my number.
He knew we went to the solicitor.
He knew we found Mia tonight." Ryan set the phone down on the table.
"He's been closer than we thought."
"Ryan—"
"I need you to check the driveway.
Every door.
Every window." Ryan was already moving toward the hallway.
"I'm going to check on the girls."
He walked quickly to the spare room and opened the door.
The nightlight was on.
Lily was asleep on the air mattress, one arm thrown over her head.
Mia was in the bed, curled on her side, Gerald held against her chin.
She was breathing steadily.
Ryan stood in the doorway and watched them for a moment.
Then he pulled the door almost closed and leaned his back against the wall in the hallway.
His phone was still in his hand.
He opened his contacts and found Tom's number.
It was nearly eleven o'clock.
He pressed call anyway.
Tom answered on the third ring, his voice alert.
"Ryan."
"He called me," Ryan said.
"Derek Paulson.
He has my number.
He knows we went to you tonight.
He knows we found Mia."
A silence.
Then: "He's had someone on you longer than your wife realized."
"That's what I think."
"All right.
First thing tomorrow morning, we file for emergency guardianship.
I'll have the paperwork ready by eight." Tom's voice was steady and precise.
"And Ryan — do not speak to Derek Paulson again without me present.
Not one word."
"Understood."
"Get some sleep if you can."
Ryan ended the call.
He looked at the strip of light under the spare room door.
He could hear Lily's slow breathing and, underneath it, the quieter rhythm of Mia's.
May you like
He sat down on the floor in the hallway, his back against the wall, and stayed there.
He was not going to sleep.
