Chapter 8 - Face to Face
The interior of the Sterling mansion was cold, dark, and utterly silent.
Arthur Sterling stood at the top of the grand sweeping staircase, leaning heavily on a wooden cane.
He looked older than his photographs, his face lined with grief and immense stress.
"You have a lot of nerve coming into my home, Caldwell," Sterling said bitterly.
"Where is my son?" Adrian demanded, his voice echoing fiercely through the massive hall.
Sterling slowly descended the stairs, his eyes filled with a complicated mix of defiance and sorrow.
"The boy you are looking for is named Thomas now," Sterling replied defensively.
"I saved him from that horrible orphanage."
"I gave him the best education, a safe home, and a future you could never guarantee."
Adrian took a step forward, his fists completely clenched.
"You bought a stolen child from a corrupt prison," Adrian growled.
Before Sterling could answer, a door on the second floor slowly clicked open.
Adrian froze completely.
A fourteen-year-old boy stepped out onto the balcony, looking down at the commotion in the hallway.
He had dark hair, just like Adrian’s, but his eyes were the exact same brilliant green as Claire’s.
He was tall, thin, and wore a simple gray sweater, looking confused by the armed men in his house.
"Father?" the boy asked, looking at Sterling.
"Who are these people?"
Adrian felt his knees go weak, a decade of buried grief rising in his throat like a tidal wave.
He stared at the boy, unable to form a single coherent word.
It was Noah.
He was older, his face had lost its baby fat, but it was undoubtedly the boy from the painting.
May you like
The boy from the beach.
Adrian slowly took a step toward the stairs, tears finally spilling over his eyelashes.
