Chapter 2 - FOUR LITTLE KINGS
Clara turned.
Nobody was there.
Only a dark hallway.
“Theo,” Victor said.
The boy instantly dropped his eyes.
Clara noticed.
“What did he mean?”
“Nothing.”
Victor’s tone ended the conversation.
At least, he thought it did.
Clara had spent eight years married to a man who believed lowering his voice counted as winning an argument.
She had developed immunity.
“Who’s Grant?”
“My brother.”
“And why would he care how long your nannies stay?”
“He doesn’t.”
Theo pushed pasta around his bowl.
Victor saw it.
His jaw tightened.
Clara saw that too.
Interesting.
She didn’t push.
Not yet.
After dinner, she learned the first rule of the Hale quadruplets.
Never turn your back.
Clara loaded a dishwasher.
Twenty seconds later, Mason tied her apron to a cabinet handle.
Cole filled her shoes with cereal.
Ryder turned off the lights.
Theo watched.
Clara switched the lights back on.
“Finished?”
Three innocent faces stared at her.
“No idea what you mean,” Mason said.
Clara cut the apron string with kitchen scissors.
“Great. Bedtime.”
All four boys laughed.
Victor entered.
“What’s funny?”
Mason pointed at Clara.
“She said bedtime.”
Victor looked at the clock.
8:21.
“It is bedtime.”
Cole climbed onto the counter.
“No.”
Ryder opened a drawer.
“Nope.”
Mason crossed his arms.
“Make us.”
Victor’s face hardened.
“Boys.”
Clara held up a hand.
“I’ve got it.”
Mason smirked.
“You can’t touch us.”
“I don’t need to.”
She opened the pantry.
Then unplugged the Wi-Fi router.
Four heads snapped around.
“What did you do?” Cole shouted.
“Internet goes off at eight-thirty.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Apparently I can.”
Mason looked at Victor.
“Dad!”
Victor looked at Clara.
For the first time all evening, he seemed entertained.
“Don’t look at me.”
“You own the house!”
“True.”
“Then stop her!”
Victor took a slow drink of water.
“No.”
That word hit harder than any yelling.
The boys stared at him.
Clara smiled.
“Upstairs.”
Mason’s face flushed.
“I hate you.”
“Get in line.”
Ryder laughed before he could stop himself.
Mason glared at him.
Five minutes later, four boys were stomping upstairs.
Mrs. Whitaker appeared in the hallway.
Her mouth was hanging open.
“How?”
“Wi-Fi.”
The housekeeper shook her head.
“We should build you a statue.”
Victor walked beside Clara toward the children’s wing.
“You handled that well.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I’ve seen trained specialists leave this house crying.”
“Maybe the boys weren’t the problem.”
Victor stopped.
Clara turned.
His eyes cooled.
“Be careful.”
“About what?”
“You’ve been here two hours.”
“And?”
“You don’t know my children.”
“No. But I know kids who are trying very hard to control every adult around them.”
His jaw tightened.
“Because they’re spoiled?”
“Because control makes them feel safe.”
Victor stared at her.
Clara continued.
“Children don’t usually wake up one morning and decide to become nightmares. Somebody teaches them chaos works.”
The amusement disappeared from his face.
“You’re here to supervise them, Ms. Bennett. Not diagnose my family.”
“Good. Because diagnosis costs extra.”
She walked past him.
Inside the bedroom, Mason was dumping drawers onto the floor.
Cole was jumping on a bed.
Ryder had hidden under a blanket.
Theo sat by the window.
Clara clapped once.
“New rules.”
“NO RULES!” Mason shouted.
“Rule one: nobody hits.”
Cole stopped jumping.
“Rule two: nobody destroys someone else’s stuff.”
Mason kicked a toy.
“Rule three: you can be angry.”
Theo looked over.
“You can?”
“Of course.”
Mason frowned.
“Then what’s the rule?”
“You don’t get to hurt people because you’re angry.”
That silenced him.
Clara helped Theo pull back his blanket.
As she did, something slid from beneath his pillow.
A photograph.
A beautiful dark-haired woman held four toddlers against her chest.
Their mother.
On the back, written in blue ink, were five words:
DON’T TRUST WHAT GRANT TELLS YOU.
Clara looked at Theo.
His face had gone white.
May you like
“You weren’t supposed to see that.”
Then the bedroom door slammed shut behind them.
