“Do you?”
He looked through the glass panel in the door.
Lily was asleep in a chair, her head resting against Chloe’s.
Chloe remained awake, watching the hallway to make sure Alexander had not disappeared.
“No,” he said.
“But I know what happens when children are raised in beautiful rooms by people who are paid to leave at the end of the day.
I will not become my father.”
The emergency court review continued late into the evening.
Alexander submitted to interviews, home inspections, financial disclosures, and an immediate background investigation.
He agreed to supervision, parenting evaluations, unannounced visits, and every condition the court could impose.
He did not ask for special treatment.
He asked for responsibility.
Because no safe relative could be found and the girls had formed an immediate attachment to him, the court authorized a closely supervised emergency placement while the investigation continued.
It was temporary.
Every adult in the room emphasized that word.
Alexander heard only one thing.
The girls would not be separated.
When the Maybach finally carried them away from the hospital, Lily and Chloe sat beside him with their legs dangling above the floor.
Their damp backpacks rested between them.
Chloe looked around the leather interior.
“Is this a taxi?”
“No.”
“Is it your car?”
“Yes.”
Lily touched the stitching on the seat.
“Are you rich?”
Alexander looked through the rain-streaked window.
“Yes.”
“How rich?”
He considered explaining stock ownership, company valuation, and the difference between assets and cash.
“Very.”
Lily nodded as though confirming a suspicion.
“Then you probably have soup.”
“I can arrange soup.”
“And hot chocolate?” Chloe asked.
“Yes.”
“With the tiny marshmallows?”
Alexander looked at his driver.
The driver nodded gravely into the rearview mirror.
“With the tiny marshmallows,” Alexander promised.
The penthouse doors opened onto white marble, glass walls, perfect furniture, and a silence so complete that every small footstep echoed.
Chloe stopped in the entrance.
“Is this your house?”
“Yes.”
“It’s really clean.”
Alexander looked around at the untouched surfaces, the carefully placed art, and the dining table where no one had eaten in years.
For the first time, his home did not look impressive.
It looked empty.
The supervised placement worker checked each room while Alexander’s house staff hurried to prepare a guest suite.
Lily and Chloe refused separate beds, so two were pushed together.
Alexander ordered every sharp decorative object removed, every balcony door secured, and enough food delivered to supply a small school.
He had no idea what children ate.
His first grocery order included six kinds of cereal, twelve cartons of milk, three cakes, frozen vegetables, apples, soup, and an industrial-sized container of coffee.
The coffee was for him.
That night, after the workers left, Alexander found the girls sitting on the edge of the enormous bed.
They had changed into pajamas delivered from a nearby store.
