Chapter 2 - NATE HAD ALREADY DECIDED WHICH SON I WAS SUPPOSED TO CHOOSE
At 2:13 the next morning, Clare discovered Nathaniel had not improvised the dinner.
He had planned it.
Megan was asleep upstairs with Lily curled beside her when Clare sat alone at the kitchen island staring at the divorce petition for what had to be the twentieth time.
Her name.
Nathaniel Holloway’s name.
Seventeen years of marriage converted into numbered paragraphs.
Marital residence.
Financial disclosures.
Temporary custody.
School continuity.
Security concerns.
Then one sentence caught her attention.
Petitioner requests temporary primary residential custody of Ethan Holloway, Caleb Holloway, Owen Holloway, and Lily Holloway pending final allocation.
Clare stared.
All four children.
Nathaniel had filed asking to keep Lily too.
Yet at the dining-room table he had offered Clare one son.
Not legally.
Verbally.
Privately.
Without counsel.
Her stomach turned.
She called the only attorney whose number she still knew by memory.
Daniel Price.
He had been her father’s estate lawyer before Clare married into the Holloway family.
Nathaniel hated him.
That alone now felt like a recommendation.
Daniel answered on the fourth ring.
“Clare?”
“I need a lawyer.”
Silence.
Then:
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“The kids?”
“Lily is with me.”
“The boys are with Nate.”
Another pause.
“Tell me what happened.”
She did.
The papers.
The table.
Nathaniel’s offer.
Pick one of the boys.
Lily stays.
Daniel interrupted only once.
“He said that exactly?”
“Yes.”
“Were the children present?”
“All four.”
“Anyone else?”
“No.”
“Any recording?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do not contact Nate about it tonight.”
Clare almost laughed.
“He has my sons.”
“I know.”
“Daniel—”
“I know.”
His voice softened.
“But if he planned that conversation, assume he planned the next one too.”
That sentence chilled her.
Daniel arrived at Megan’s townhouse shortly after six.
Gray suit.
Coffee.
Legal pad.
No pity.
Good.
Clare needed structure.
Lily came downstairs wearing Megan’s oversized Northwestern sweatshirt and pink pajama pants.
Her hair was tangled.
“Mom?”
Clare stood immediately.
“I’m here.”
“Are Ethan and Caleb and Owen okay?”
The fact that Lily listed all three names before asking about herself hurt.
“I think so.”
“Can I call them?”
Clare looked at Daniel.
He nodded.
“If their phones work.”
Lily tried Ethan first.
No answer.
Caleb.
Straight to voicemail.
Owen.
Phone off.
Lily’s face fell.
“Nate usually takes phones overnight?”
Clare asked.
“No.”
Lily whispered.
Then she looked up.
“Dad took them after you left.”
There.
“Did he say why?”
“He said everyone needed to calm down.”
Daniel wrote.
Lily noticed.
“Are you police?”
“No.”
He smiled slightly.
“I’m your mom’s lawyer.”
“Is Dad in trouble?”
Clare’s chest tightened.
Daniel answered carefully.
“Your parents are going to court because they disagree about what should happen next.”
“That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.”
Lily nodded.
Then:
“Dad said Mom abandoned the boys.”
Clare stopped breathing.
“When?”
“Last night.”
“After I left?”
Lily nodded.
“He said you picked me because girls always choose girls.”
Clare closed her eyes.
There it was.
The wound being manufactured already.
She crouched in front of her daughter.
“Lily, listen.”
“I did not choose you instead of your brothers.”
“I chose not to make Ethan, Caleb, and Owen compete.”
“I brought you because your father told me I couldn’t.”
Lily frowned.
“That sounds like choosing me.”
It did.
Children are mercilessly logical.
Clare forced herself not to simplify.
“You’re right.”
“I did choose to take you.”
“Because I believed something unfair was happening to all four of you.”
“Not because I love you more.”
“Do you understand?”
Lily thought.
“Maybe.”
Good enough.
At eight, Daniel filed an emergency motion.
By nine, Nate’s attorney responded.
Of course he already had one.
Victor Hale.
Not family law.
Holloway law.
Corporate.
Criminal.
Political.
Whatever problem needed disappearing without technically disappearing.
Daniel read the response and laughed once.
“What?”
Clare asked.
“He says you removed Lily from the marital residence without Nathaniel’s consent.”
“She walked out holding my hand.”
“Yes.”
“He also says Nate is concerned you may attempt to remove the boys from school.”
“I haven’t even spoken to them.”
“Exactly.”
Daniel turned the page.
Then stopped.
“What?”
“He attached a proposed interim parenting agreement.”
Clare read.
Nathaniel primary residential parent for all four children.
Clare alternating weekends.
One midweek dinner.
No travel outside Illinois without written consent.
Children’s existing educational, security, and “family-business development programs” remain uninterrupted.
Clare looked up.
“Family-business development programs.”
Daniel’s eyes hardened.
“That phrase is interesting.”
It was more than interesting.
Ethan had been attending meetings at Holloway Logistics for six months.
At first Nathaniel called it exposure.
Mentorship.
Then Caleb began accompanying security staff on “observation days.”
Owen had started private boxing and firearms-safety lessons.
Eleven years old.
Clare objected.
Nathaniel told her Holloway boys needed to understand the world they were born into.
And Lily?
Piano.
French.
Art.
Protected from the business.
Different childhood.
Different expectation.
“Daniel.”
“Yes?”
“He didn’t offer me a random son.”
Daniel looked up.
Clare’s pulse changed.
“He thought I would choose Owen.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s eleven.”
“Because he still sleeps with that ridiculous stuffed wolf when he’s upset.”
“Because Ethan is nearly eighteen.”
“Caleb worships Nate.”
“Owen is the one everyone would expect a mother to take.”
Daniel became very still.
“If Nate expected you to choose Owen, why offer the choice at all?”
Clare stood.
Because suddenly she knew.
“To get me to surrender claims over Ethan and Caleb voluntarily.”
Daniel’s expression hardened.
“And Lily?”
“That’s what I don’t understand.”
A sound came from the hallway.
Lily.
She stood near the stairs.
Pale.
“How much did you hear?”
Clare asked.
“Enough.”
She came closer.
Then said:
“Dad knew you’d pick Owen.”
Clare’s heart stopped.
“What?”
Lily swallowed.
“Ethan told him.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Before dinner.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they were arguing in Dad’s office.”
“I was outside.”
“Ethan said, ‘Mom will take Owen if you make her choose.’”
Clare gripped the counter.
“What did your father say?”
Lily’s voice dropped.
“He said, ‘Good.’”
Silence.
Daniel put down his pen.
Clare stared at her daughter.
“Anything else?”
Lily nodded.
“Ethan said, ‘Then what about Caleb?’”
“And Dad said…”
She hesitated.
“What?”
Clare whispered.
“He said Caleb needs Ethan more than he needs her.”
The words cut.
Not because Nathaniel believed Clare irrelevant.
Because he had assigned emotional roles to the children like positions in a company.
Ethan.
Future leader.
Caleb.
Second son under Ethan.
Owen.
Expendable enough to release.
Lily.
Something else.
Daniel leaned forward.
“Lily, did your dad say anything about you?”
She looked down.
“Yes.”
Clare’s body went cold.
“What?”
“He said I stay because Grandpa’s trust requires it.”
Daniel and Clare looked at each other.
“What trust?”
Clare asked.
Lily shrugged.
“I don’t know.”
“Dad got angry when Ethan asked.”
“He said, ‘Lily is not part of this discussion. Her place is fixed.’”
Her place is fixed.
Clare stood slowly.
She knew of multiple Holloway trusts.
Education.
Real estate.
Nathaniel’s grandfather had structured the family empire before his death.
But Clare had never seen the full instruments.
Nathaniel always said:
“The trusts are family governance.”
Not marital money.
Not her concern.
Daniel closed his legal pad.
“Now we know what we’re asking for.”
“What?”
“Every trust document that refers to your children.”
By eleven, the emergency hearing began.
Nathaniel appeared by video with Victor Hale beside him.
Perfect suit.
Perfect control.
He looked directly at Clare through the screen.
Not angry.
That was worse.
The judge asked why the parties could not maintain the status quo until a fuller hearing.
Daniel answered:
“Because there is no status quo.”
“The father served divorce papers in front of four minor children and asked the mother to select one of three sons to live with her.”
Victor stood.
“That characterization is disputed.”
Daniel looked at the judge.
“We have one child who personally heard it.”
Clare’s pulse jumped.
Nathaniel’s face changed for half a second.
Victor recovered.
“An eight-year-old child should not be brought into preliminary litigation.”
Daniel answered:
“We agree.”
“Which is why we are not asking her to testify today.”
“We are asking the court not to reward an adult for making the statement in front of her.”
The judge ordered no child moved out of the Chicago area.
No changes to school.
No changes to security programs without mutual consent.
And most importantly:
Clare received immediate private telephone access to all three sons.
Nathaniel could not monitor.
Could not remain in the room.
Could not withhold devices.
At 1:30 p.m., Ethan called first.
His face appeared on Megan’s laptop.
Seventeen.
Dark hair.
Nathaniel’s eyes.
Clare almost broke.
“Hi.”
Ethan stared at her.
“Mom.”
“I love you.”
His face tightened.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Then:
“You shouldn’t have taken Lily.”
Clare absorbed it.
“Why?”
“Because now Dad knows you figured out part of it.”
Her blood turned cold.
“Part of what?”
Ethan looked toward something off-screen.
Then lowered his voice.
“The reason he wanted Owen to go with you.”
Clare stopped breathing.
“Tell me.”
Ethan swallowed.
“Because Owen isn’t the son Dad is worried about losing.”
“Caleb is.”
May you like
Before Clare could ask why, Ethan continued.
“And Lily is the one Grandpa made impossible for him to let go.”
Related Stories
