CHAPTER 6
Anderson stood by the living-room window, tall, immaculate in his suit, the early sunlight reflecting off his wristwatch. He had always been a man who commanded a room without speaking, someone whose presence alone made people straighten their backs. But today, he looked tired, older somehow, as though something had drained the color from his soul.
Ruby stood a few steps away, clutching the straps of her worn schoolbag, her heartbeat loud against her ribs.
"Dad… are you really leaving?" she asked quietly.
She hated that her voice trembled. She wished she sounded angry. She wished she sounded brave. But all that came out was fear.
Anderson exhaled, slow and heavy, before turning to her. His eyes softened for a moment, and Ruby caught a glimpse of the father she once knew—the one who carried her on his shoulders when she was six, the one who used to tell her stories at night before the house grew cold after her mother's death.
"Yes, Ruby," he said gently. "There are business issues that require my presence. I'll only be gone a few months."
A few months.
That was what he said last time. Last time, he promised three months and stayed almost a year.
Ruby swallowed hard. "But… Why now? You just got back."
Anderson ran a hand through his hair, as though searching for the right words. "Grey Enterprises is on the verge of a partnership with a foreign firm. They need someone trusted to oversee the negotiations."
"And it has to be you?" Ruby whispered.
"It has to be me," he replied.
Those five words fell between them like stones.
Behind them, heels clicked against marble flooring—sharp, confident, and too familiar. Vivian appeared at the foot of the staircase wearing her satin robe, her expression carefully composed. She was the type of woman whose smile was never genuine unless she was getting something out of it.
"Darling, the car is ready," Vivian said sweetly.
Anderson nodded, then looked back at his daughter. He hesitated, as if battling guilt he wasn't sure how to process. "Ruby… I trust Vivian to take care of you."
Ruby's stomach twisted.
But she said nothing.
Because what was the point? He believed Vivian's act—the loving wife facade he saw only on the surface. Meanwhile, behind closed doors, Vivian treated Ruby like she was a burden… or an outsider trespassing into her perfect life.
He stepped closer and placed a hand on Ruby's shoulder. "I need you to be strong."
Strong.
Always strong.
Always understanding.
"I'll call often," he added, though his tone lacked conviction.
Ruby forced a nod.
Vivian's expression tightened, but she quickly smoothed it into a soft smile. "She'll be fine, Anderson. You don't need to worry."
Ruby wanted to scream that it was a lie. That she wouldn't be fine. That Vivian acted differently when he wasn't looking.
But Anderson didn't see her desperation, or he chose not to. Instead, he kissed her forehead briefly, then walked toward the door.
"Take care, Ruby," he said.
And then he left.
Just like that.
The door closed with a hollow thud that echoed through Ruby's chest.
When the car engine started, Vivian's smile vanished instantly.
"Well," she said sharply, crossing her arms. "Since your father is gone, you'd better behave. I don't want unnecessary noise in this house. And don't expect me to pamper you. You're old enough to take care of yourself."
Ruby lowered her gaze, her throat burning.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good." Vivian turned to leave but paused. "Oh—and don't think about calling your father for every minor issue. He's busy, and I won't have you distracting him."
Ruby nodded again, numb.
When Vivian disappeared into the kitchen, Ruby stood there for several seconds. The quiet felt heavier now, like it wrapped around her and pressed into her lungs.
Her father was gone.
And she was alone again.
Alone with a woman who saw her as nothing but a responsibility she never wanted.
Ruby tightened her grip on her schoolbag. She had no choice but to endure it—again. Thank God she will soon be done with high school, and can't wait to leave the house for college.
Be strong, she repeated to herself.
But strength felt like the one thing she no longer had.
____
Across the city, Leo pushed open the front doors of Saint Rowland Medical Center, the familiar scent of disinfectant and sterile air hitting him at once.
He hated hospitals. The bright white lights, the constant beeping of machines, the low murmurs of doctors and nurses—it all felt suffocating. But today, he needed to be here.
He needed to see Blake.
It had been years since they last saw each other, ever since Leo left for business school abroad and Blake dove headfirst into medical studies. Life has been busy. Complicated. Heavy. And now, with the weight of his father's latest decision pressing on him, Leo needed someone who wasn't afraid to tell the truth.
The receptionists looked up as he walked in. Recognizing him instantly, they whispered among themselves. Everyone knew the Carter's family—one of the wealthiest in the country. Leo was used to attention, but today, he ignored it.
He took the elevator to the fifth floor, where Blake often took breaks between surgeries. As he approached the resting lounge, he spotted a tall figure in a white coat leaning over a table, flipping through patient files.
Leo grinned.
"Dr. Blake Harrison," he called out dramatically. "Saving lives and breaking hearts, I see."
Blake froze, then slowly turned.
The moment he recognized Leo, his face broke into a wide smile.
"Leo?" he exclaimed. "Holy—get over here!"
They embraced tightly, the kind of hug that came with years of history—childhood fights, shared secrets, teenage stupidity, dreams whispered under star-lit rooftops.
When they pulled apart, Blake shook his head in disbelief. "You look richer every time I see you," he teased.
"And you look sleep-deprived," Leo shot back.
"Occupational hazard."
They sat down across from each other, the reunion warmth fading into something steadier, more serious.
"So," Blake started, leaning back. "What brings you here? You don't visit hospitals unless someone forces you or you break a bone."
Leo sighed. "My dad."
Blake nodded slowly. "Let me guess… another business move?"
"It's more than that," Leo replied. "He wants to merge Carter's Industries with an international conglomerate. He plans to step down eventually. Which means—"
"Which means everything will fall on you," Blake finished.
Leo rubbed his palms together anxiously. "Exactly."
He slumped back in his chair, eyes drifting to the window. "I'm not ready for it, Blake. I'm not even sure I want it. But my father… he's already decided."
Blake folded his arms, observing him quietly. "Has he discussed it with you properly? Or is this another 'expectation' he's dropping on your shoulders?"
Leo let out a bitter laugh. "You know my father."
"Yeah," Blake muttered. "I do."
They sat in silence for a moment, letting the weight of the situation settle.