Chapter 8 - Echoes at HomeAway from the blinding flashes of reporter cameras and the suffocating air of courtroom halls, the brownstone was quiet. The soft hum of the refrigerator and the gentle patter of rain against the windowpane offered a stark contrast to the storm raging outside.
Finding refuge from the public fallout. Nguồn: draganab / Getty Images
Evelyn sat on the edge of the sofa, wrapped in a soft wool cardigan, her fingers gently running through Leo’s hair. The boy lay with his head on her lap, his small shoulders tight with a quiet anxiety he couldn't fully articulate. Children possessed an innate radar for adult distress, no matter how carefully hidden behind poised smiles.
"Mom?" Leo whispered, his voice muffled against the fabric of her trousers. "Are those people outside going to make dad go away?"
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Evelyn paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. She gripped his shoulder lightly, grounding herself in the quiet reality of her home. "No, sweetheart. There are just a lot of questions right now, and grown-ups are trying to figure out the answers. Your dad and I are handling it."
She looked up at the framed family portraits lining the hallway wall—snaps of happier vacations, sunlit beaches, and unburdened laughter. The distance between those memories and the present felt vast, almost unbridgeable.
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