The Heir Who Returned

Chapter 5

"Ms. Whitfield, I'm sorry, please forgive me," Mrs Sarah said, crying on her knees.

"I gave you one last chance and you used it. You are fired, and don't come back here," Ms. Whitfield said angrily.

"Ms. Whitfield, for the sake of my children, I haven't paid my rent," Mrs Sarah begged.

"I'm sorry, but I can't keep you," Ms. Whitfield said, as she went back to her office.

Mrs Sarah walked home slowly, her heart heavy. She had lost her job, and now she did not know how she would pay for anything, not even Caleb's hospital bills which she begged the doctor she would pay in installment. But she pushed the pain down. Her children needed her to be strong.

When she got home, she went straight to check on Caleb, who was resting in bed, his rib wrapped in bandages. She sat beside him for a while, brushing his hair back gently, before going to the kitchen to think about what to do next.

She had barely sat down when she heard a car stop outside. She looked through the window, and her chest felt tight. It was Mr Garrick's car. This time, he was not alone. A woman got out with him, wearing an expensive coat. She looked at the small house like it was dirty.

Mrs Sarah opened the door before they could knock. "Mr Garrick, what more do you want from us? Haven't you done enough today?" she said, her voice shaking with anger.

Mr Garrick smiled a small, cold smile. "This is not about today. This is business. Mrs Sarah, your due date to pay for this house is near. This is the lady that wants to buy the house."

"Vicky," Mrs Sarah called out in surprise, her eyes wide.

"Well, well, well, look who it is," Vicky said, smiling. "If it isn't my poor, miserable sister."

"Vicky, please, don't do this to me. You know how bad my condition is. Don't make us homeless, for the sake of—"

"For the sake of what?" Vicky cut her off. "You made your choices, Sarah. Now live with them." She turned to Mr Garrick. "I want the papers ready by Monday. I already have plans for this place."

Mrs Sarah felt her knees go weak. She held the door to stand up straight. "Please," she whispered, but Vicky was already walking back to the car, not even looking back.

Mr Garrick looked at Mrs Sarah one last time. "You have until the weekend, Mrs Sarah. Don't make this harder than it needs to be." Then he followed Vicky to the car, and they drove away, leaving dust behind them.

Mrs Sarah stood at the door for a long time, staring at the empty road, tears falling down her face. She did not know how much more she could take in one day. But she wiped her face quickly when she remembered Caleb was inside, hurt and needing her.

She went back into the house to check on him. His head felt warm under her hand, and worry showed on her face as she checked his temperature again.

Slowly, Caleb opened his eyes. He looked at his mother, his face pale and tired. "Mom," he said in a weak voice.

"I'm here, baby," Mrs Sarah said, sitting beside him and holding his hand.

"Mom, I'm sorry," Caleb whispered, his eyes filling with tears. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't pushed James, none of this would have happened. You wouldn't have lost your job, and Mr Garrick wouldn't have—"

"Shh, no," Mrs Sarah said, holding his face gently. "None of this is your fault, Caleb. You were protecting your sister. That is not something to be sorry for. Do you hear me? Never be sorry for that."

Caleb nodded slowly, but his eyes still looked full of guilt. Mrs Sarah leaned down and kissed his forehead, holding back her own tears so he would not see how scared she really was.

Ethan and Lily stood quietly by the door, watching the mother and son together. Lily's eyes were still red from crying earlier, and she leaned her head on Ethan's shoulder without thinking, needing someone close.

Ethan stood still, his mind far away. Watching Mrs Sarah comfort Caleb made something hurt inside his chest. He thought of his own mother, her face blurry in his memory, like a picture left in the sun too long. He wondered if she was looking for him, if she even knew he was alive. He wanted so badly to go back, to walk through his own front door and see her face again.

But he couldn't. Not yet.

Because going back meant giving his father's enemies more ways to hurt his father. If he goes back, he might not survive the attack this time.

So he stayed quiet, watching a family that was not his own hold each other together, wondering how long he could keep pretending to be someone he was not, and what would happen the day someone finally saw who he really was.