14. Ivy Wilson
Author: Kayysemiu023
last update2024-09-02 21:14:26

After minutes of careful deliberation, Van decided that he was going to meet the woman. He approached the front door and gave it a little knock.

“Yes? Who is it?” Van heard her sigh as she walked to the door. Was she doing something important?

She pulled the door open and the moment she laid her eyes on Van, there was a slight shift in her composure.

“Hi, I don't mean to bother you but, could you tell me who you are?” Van asked in a sober tone, still trying to rack his brain for answers.

“I think I should be the one asking that question, don't you? After all, you are standing in front of my apartment." She replied with a warm smile and she rested her hand on her hip.

Van couldn't find the words to describe the little woman standing in front of him. Everything about her was utterly flawless. Even her smile was like nothing he had ever seen before. "Right, my bad. My nane is Van Everest. For the past few years you have been helping my mother with your monthly package. You said you w
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  • 326. Double Identity

    The bedroom was quiet that night.Ivy had just finished settling Leona back into her cradle, humming softly until the baby’s tiny fists unclenched and her eyelids fluttered shut. Rain no longer pattered against the windows, but the air still felt heavy — like the last page of a chapter that hadn’t yet been turned.Van sat at the edge of the bed, still in his dress shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, tie discarded on the floor. He stared at his hands, elbows resting on his knees, jaw set.Ivy joined him wordlessly, perching beside him. She waited. She didn’t press. She knew he would speak when he was ready.“I wasn’t going to tell you tonight,” Van began, his voice low. “But you already know something’s wrong. And I don’t want you worrying more than you have to.”She glanced sideways at him. “I’m not worried about your silence. I’m worried about what’s behind it.”He nodded slowly. “It’s about my father. Marcus.”“I figured,” Ivy said gently. “You’ve been carrying him in your face al

  • 326. Double Identity

    The bedroom was quiet that night.Ivy had just finished settling Leona back into her cradle, humming softly until the baby’s tiny fists unclenched and her eyelids fluttered shut. Rain no longer pattered against the windows, but the air still felt heavy — like the last page of a chapter that hadn’t yet been turned.Van sat at the edge of the bed, still in his dress shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, tie discarded on the floor. He stared at his hands, elbows resting on his knees, jaw set.Ivy joined him wordlessly, perching beside him. She waited. She didn’t press. She knew he would speak when he was ready.“I wasn’t going to tell you tonight,” Van began, his voice low. “But you already know something’s wrong. And I don’t want you worrying more than you have to.”She glanced sideways at him. “I’m not worried about your silence. I’m worried about what’s behind it.”He nodded slowly. “It’s about my father. Marcus.”“I figured,” Ivy said gently. “You’ve been carrying him in your face al

  • 325. Shadows

    The rain had stopped, but the clouds remained— hovering low and thick over the city, muting the sunlight and softening the edges of the day.Ivy stood at the edge of the study, her arms crossed lightly over her chest. Van’s briefcase was gone from the hallway console now, and he hadn’t called home all morning.She knew the rhythm of his silences.When Van was tired, he paced. When he was irritated, he went quiet— but when he was anxious, he disappeared behind tasks. He would bury himself in purpose, mask it as duty.And she could feel it now: the shift. Something heavy pulling him beneath the surface.She didn’t want to be suspicious— but trust didn’t mean pretending not to notice.It meant caring enough to look closer.The study was just as Van had left it— papers stacked neatly, shelves alphabetized, and a slight coffee ring on the desk from yesterday’s mug.Ivy walked slowly to the far wall where the oldest family books were kept. She brushed her hand along the spines, leather boun

  • 324. What Now?

    The sun returned slowly the next morning— rising behind misty clouds, then streaming through the tall windows in gentle rays that spilled across the hardwood floor like honey.In the kitchen, Ivy hummed softly as she poured batter into a hot pan. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled the air. Leona was propped in a sling across her chest, awake but content, one tiny hand curled around the fabric as though she were holding on to her own little world.“I smell pancakes!” Billy shouted, barreling into the room with his usual whirlwind energy. His hair stuck out in five directions, pajama pants on backwards.“Morning, Electro Pancake,” Ivy said.“That’s my old name,” he said proudly. “Now I’m Captain Syrupstorm.”Chloe trudged in behind him, dragging a stuffed elephant by one leg. “I haven’t named myself yet. I’m still thinking.”Ivy flipped a pancake with one hand while steadying Leona with the other. “You’ve got time. You’re only eight.”“Eight and a half,” Chloe corrected.Van appea

  • 321. Welcome Back

    The front gate chimed at exactly 9:37 AM.Van, already halfway through his second cup of coffee, looked up from the kitchen island where he was sorting mail. “They’re back.”Ivy— still in her robe, hair twisted in a loose bun— smiled from across the counter. “Brace yourself.”“Should I stretch?”“Too late.”The front door flung open a moment later, and in stormed Ethan, superhero cape trailing behind him, arms full of drawings and candy wrappers.“I HAVE A NEW NAME,” he declared in a triumphant voice. “CALL ME —ELECTRO -PANCAKE!”Van blinked. “Why?”“I don’t remember!”Behind him, Ella followed with a shoebox under one arm and a paper crown on her head. “Don’t step on my treasure chest. It’s VERY delicate.”Isadora, who had volunteered to go with Macy for the pickup, brought up the rear carrying a lopsided stuffed penguin and two bags of snacks.“Remind me,” she muttered to Van, “next time, we only keep one of them.”“Deal,” Van said. “Which one?”They both looked at the kids, who wer

  • 320. Date Night

    It was well past nine when the house finally fell quiet.The twins were still at Macy’s for their overnight visit, Isadora had retreated early with a book and a soft “no interruptions” warning, and baby Leona— miracle of miracles— had fallen asleep after just ten minutes of Ivy’s singing and a slow sway around the room.Van stood by the crib, watching her tiny chest rise and fall, hands on his hips, head tilted slightly in disbelief.“She’s out,” he whispered.Ivy, wrapping herself in a soft shawl, nodded. “She’s never out this fast.”“She must be saving up energy to wake us up at three AM.”“Don’t jinx it.”He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I didn’t say anything.”Still barefoot, Ivy padded toward the door and flicked the dimmer switch. The nursery melted into soft shadows.“Wine?” she asked over her shoulder.Van raised an eyebrow. “Are we doing this?”“I think we are.”He didn’t need a second invitation.Downstairs, the house looked different in the low, golden light of the sconce

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