Page 55 of The Grand Duel

“I can sit with Hannah,” I tell them.

“Are you sure?” Dennis asks.

“Of course.”

Charles turns his attention to me as I step towards the meeting room, his eyes hard.

I’ve clearly pissed him off again.

But I don’t care.

I can’t care.

Be mad at me. So long as this little girl at my side doesn’t have to stand here and listen to a second more of her neglect.

I sit with Hannah for fifteen minutes before Kate arrives and takes my place. She didn’t engage with me at all whilst we waited, and I never pushed it. The second I stopped asking her questions I saw the way her shoulders relaxed and decided to shut the hell up.

I join the meeting with Dennis and sit, listening as I take notes, pretending it’s not tearing me up inside to be in this room.

The meeting runs longer than planned, more gut-wrenching accounts being laid bare to build a case against a terrible human being.

“We’ll meet again in a couple of weeks,” Charles tells Dennis, standing and seeing him to the door.

I start clearing up the files, slipping the images from before into the folder. My eyes dart over each one, accounts of how the incidents occurred playing back in my mind until my vision grows blurred on a photograph of Hannah, a burn on her hand that I now know came from trying to cook soup in the microwave.

“Lissie, how much longer? I’m hungry.”

“It won’t be long. Go back a bit, it’s hot.”

“Lissie.”

“Don’t cry, Jovie. Please, don’t cry. I’m making it now.”

I blow out a shaky breath and go to slide the image into the file with the rest, but my ears ring. Memories of the saucepan hitting the floor and splattering both mine and Jovie’s legs withporridge making the tiny scars left behind there feel like they’re burning.

I place my hand on the flat of the table, steadying myself as I turn to leave.I need some fresh air. But just as I turn, I stumble, my face hitting hard into a solid chest.

“Woah.”

I’m caught, strong, sure hands grasping me at the waist. I look up, ocean-blue eyes shining, searching my face as if the last piece of the puzzle resides there. “Charles, I’m sorry.”

His hands flex on my waist, and I think his thumbs might smooth over my ribs. My eyes search his, his brow creasing as he frowns down at me?—

“The files!” someone shrieks.

His gaze flares and then snaps away. He lets me go as he reaches for the files that are now covered in water.

“Oh my god,” I say, reaching out to help. “Mr Aldridge, I’m?—”

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snaps without looking at me, his tone thundering though my entire body. “Jesus. What were you even doing?”

“I-I…”

“Mr Aldridge, let me,” a woman says, giving me a sympathetic half smile across the table. “We have copies.”

I give her a nod, smiling despite how big of a mess I feel inside.

“Right,” he says, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck as he glances quickly towards me. “Of course we do.”

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