Chapter 6
Noah’s paper flower became important for a reason nobody expected.
Carlo brought him back into the room after he stopped crying.
The child immediately looked for it.
Vanessa had torn it straight through the center.
I picked up both halves.
On one side, Noah had drawn himself.
On the other, Grant.
Between them was a little circle with scribbled letters.
“What does this say?”
Noah sniffed.
“Family table.”
Grant’s face changed.
Small.
Enough.
“What family table?”
Noah pointed toward the VIP room.
“The secret one.”
Isabella looked at Grant.
“What secret table?”
Noah answered before he could.
“Daddy takes me sometimes.”
I crouched.
“When?”
“When Mommy sleeps.”
My jaw tightened.
Grant snapped:
“He means breakfast.”
Noah shook his head.
“Night.”
There.
Children do not protect adult timelines.
I looked at Noah.
“What happens there?”
“Men talk.”
“What do they call you?”
He hesitated.
Then:
“Little Hale.”
Grant closed his eyes.
“What do they talk about?”
Noah shrugged.
“Grandpa getting old.”
The room became completely silent.
My grandson had been present while grown men discussed my age, my authority, and likely what came after me.
Grant had not hidden Noah from everyone.
He had hidden his Lombardi identity from me while displaying him to selected men as a Hale grandson with access to both families.
May you like
That was not erasure.
It was repositioning.
