Chapter 2 - The Favorite
On the morning before Nolan’s birthday, Nicole drove him to school herself.
He sat in the back seat holding a paper bag filled with small chocolate cookies for his classmates. Each bag had been decorated with a hand-drawn candle.
“Do you think Dad will come tomorrow?” he asked.
Nicole looked at him through the mirror.
“He said he would.”
“That means maybe.”
She wanted to deny it, but Nolan had learned Alistair’s language too well.
“Yes,” she admitted. “It means maybe.”
Nolan nodded and watched the buildings pass.
After school, Mason arrived at the Hawthorne house with a suitcase and a folder containing his report card. He had earned excellent grades.
Alistair came home less than an hour later.
He walked into the living room while still speaking on his phone. The moment he saw Mason holding the report card, he ended the call.
“There he is,” Alistair said. “Show me.”
Mason handed him the folder.
Alistair read every line and called two relatives to tell them the news.
Nolan stood nearby holding a clay model he had made in class.
“It’s the desert after rain,” Nolan explained. “The blue part is where the water goes.”
Alistair barely looked up.
“Be careful with that near the marble.”
Nolan lowered the model.
Mason noticed.
“You can show me,” he offered.
The boys sat together near the coffee table while Nolan explained the painted cactus, the small clay rabbit, and the stream running between two brown hills.
Mason listened patiently.
From the doorway, Nicole watched them.
Mason was not responsible for Alistair’s behavior. In many ways, the favoritism made him uncomfortable. He sometimes tried to redirect praise toward Nolan, but Alistair rarely noticed.
That evening, Thomas called from San Diego.
He had been away for nearly two weeks handling negotiations involving a commercial property. Nicole answered while preparing dinner.
“How is the birthday planning?” he asked.
“Simple. Cake, dinner, and family.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“Are you still coming?”
“My flight lands tomorrow afternoon. I’ll come directly from the airport.”
Nicole smiled for the first time that day.
“Nolan will be happy.”
Thomas paused.
“How is he?”
The question was ordinary, but Nicole struggled to answer.
“He’s been quiet.”
“And Alistair?”
“Busy.”
Thomas understood the word did not mean what it once had.
“I’ll speak with him.”
Nicole placed one hand on the kitchen counter.
“Thomas, there are things we need to discuss.”
“Tell me now.”
She looked through the doorway. Alistair was helping Mason set up a temporary gaming station. Nolan sat on the far end of the sofa with his clay model.
“Not over the phone,” she said.
Thomas became silent.
“Is Nolan safe?”
“Yes. He’s with me.”
“That wasn’t exactly what I asked.”
Nicole closed her eyes.
“There was an incident earlier this week. It’s over, and Nolan is safe. But Alistair crossed a line.”
Thomas’s voice changed.
“What line?”
“I need to explain it in person. I’ve documented everything.”
“Why didn’t you call me immediately?”
“Because I was deciding what to do. Because Alistair kept saying I was exaggerating. Because I didn’t want Nolan questioned by a room full of angry adults.”
Thomas released a slow breath.
“Keep him close tonight. I’ll be there tomorrow.”
After the call ended, Nicole opened a drawer beside the refrigerator.
Inside was a folder containing photographs, account statements, school notes, and written records of conversations she had once tried to forget.
She had begun collecting them six months earlier.
At first, she told herself she was only organizing information.
May you like
Now she understood the truth.
She had been preparing to leave.
