Page 68 of The Widower
He looked off for a second, thinking.Then he said, “If she wants to, yeah.”
I didn’t say anything, just watched him for a moment.My son looked so much like me.And yet, I barely spent time with him. He avoided me, and I… I avoided him too. I knew it was wrong, but there are some demons inside me that just won’t let go that easily.
After a few seconds, he nodded and started to close the door slowly.
“If you need me, you can come find me,” I said quietly.
Joshua just glanced back at me, said nothing, and walked out.
I didn’t let it bother me. For once, we’d talked—no yelling, no tension. That was progress. Real progress.
ISABELLE CAMPBELL
Hanna was feeling much better by the time I got home.Her fever had dropped a lot.
“It was just a little scare,” my mom said.
“Or maybe the medicine kicked in faster than we thought.”
She went to the living room, and I sat with my daughter for a bit. Hanna was quiet. When she gets sick, her energy usually drops to zero, and she sleeps for hours.
A few minutes later, my mom came into the room. “I noticed there’s a car parked out front,” she said.“But no one’s gotten out. I’m this close to calling the police.”
I didn’t answer right away—just looked out the window. It could’ve been one of Colin’s drivers, maybe. You never know.
But when I took a closer look, I realized that none of the mansion’s cars looked like that black sedan. My stomach tightened. I decided to go outside and see what was going on, even though my mom tensed up the moment I reached for the door.
The second I stepped outside, two men got out of the car. “Got out” might not even be the right term—they practically unfolded themselves. Huge, broad-shouldered, definitely security types.
“Are you looking for someone?” I asked.
“Yes. Sorry for waiting out here so long. We’re looking for a man named Rudolph. Do you know him?”
My heart skipped a beat. What could two men like this—men who looked like bodyguards—want with Hanna’s father?
“Yes. He’s my daughter’s father,” I said carefully.
“Do you know when he’ll be home?”
“He won’t. He left us.”
I didn’t want to drag this out. That part of my life needed to stay buried.
“So you have no idea where he might be?” one of them asked, stepping closer and removing his sunglasses.
“No. None at all.”
“Think carefully,” the other one said.“He didn’t say anything before he disappeared? Just vanished into thin air?”
“I told you—I haven’t seen him in years.Why all these questions about him?”
“He owes our boss a large sum of money,” the man nearest to me said flatly. “The deadline for repayment was last month.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have the information you’re looking for.”
“Isabelle…” one of them said, and a chill shot through me. I hadn’t told them my name. “Our boss is running out of patience. He’s not a man who enjoys games.”
“I’m not playing games. I don’t know anything about Rudolph. Maybe try somewhere else—because you won’t find anything here.”
