2024-10-10 15:54:12
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327. The Reveal
The Reveal The auditorium was silent when Van stepped up to the podium. Cameras clicked instantly. Flashes burst like lightning. Phones were already streaming; reporters leaned forward, pens and recorders in hand. The Everest family name had always drawn attention — but today, the crowd wasn’t there for power. They were there for confession. Van adjusted the microphone and took a breath. Not to steady himself, but to acknowledge the weight of what he was about to say. No cue cards. No teleprompter. Just a man standing in front of the world with everything to lose and everything to gain. “My name is Van Everest,” he began, voice strong, steady. “For more than a year and half, I’ve served as CEO of the Everest Group. I'm still pretty new in the business world, but I'm sure few of you know me as a businessman, a philanthropist, and the son of Marcus Everest.” He let the name hang in the air. The room responded with perfect stillness. “I’ve spent the last few months digging through
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
323. Rainy Day
The rain began before dawn. Not the heavy, angry kind that rattled windows —but a soft, steady drizzle that wrapped the city in a quiet hush. By the time the Everest family were all awake, gray clouds had blanketed the sky, and the garden was too soaked for any kind of play. Which meant the twins were bouncing off the walls by 9 AM. “We’re going to DIE in here,” Billy declared dramatically, face pressed against the window. “The rain is TRAPPING us!” “We’re trapped forever!” Chloe added, spinning in slow circles with her arms spread. “We’ll have to eat paper and wear towels!” From the kitchen, Ivy stirred oatmeal and called, “You can wear towels all you want, but nobody is eating paper.” Van, still in a T-shirt and joggers, leaned over the counter, sipping his coffee. “They’ve gone feral already. It’s been twenty minutes.” “They’re your children.” “They’re our children.” “Technically, I’m still on maternity leave,” Ivy said, smirking. Van set his mug down. “Then I guess it’s
322. Isadora's Peace
Late afternoon in the Everest mansion was when the house exhaled. Sunlight filtered in soft gold through the tall windows. The twins were outside in the garden, under Brandt’s watchful eye, and Ivy had gone upstairs for a much needed nap with baby Leona sleeping soundly on her chest. The silence felt different now. Not hollow like it used to, not stiff. This silence was soft. Lived in. The kind of quiet that made room for thoughts and breathing. Isadora sat curled in the sitting room, one leg tucked under her, sketchbook propped on her lap. She had drawn the twins twice already that day— once chasing each other across the lawn, and again from memory, asleep in a tangle of limbs and blankets. She was sketching them again, this time placing Leona between them like a little sun orbited by two tiny, chaotic planets. Van's footsteps echoed faintly down the hallway before he paused at the doorway. He didn’t speak immediately. He had learned how to wait— how to let people make space for h
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