Chapter 121

At the end of the lane, a black sedan sat idling by the curb.

“Miss Morton, it’s been a while.”

“It has,” Alessia replied, surprised to see that it was Butler Dawson who’d come for her.

Dawson studied Alessia closely. He’d expected that returning to this neighborhood would break her spirit, but seeing her now, he realized how wrong he’d been.

Alessia stood tall, her posture impeccable. Even in this rundown area, she seemed out of place–her presence carried a quiet grace that set her apart. The only difference Dawson noticed was a softness in her eyes, something she’d never shown in the Tate household.

“It seems you’ve found a good family,” Dawson said, genuine warmth coloring his voice.

A faint smile tugged at Alessia’s lips, but she chose not to answer.

“I’m returning your charge to you,” she said, ruffling York’s hair.

“Thank you for your trouble.”

With a small bow to Alessia, Dawson opened the back door.

As the car started up, York rolled down his window. Both he and his dog stuck their heads out, wind ruffling their hair and fur.

ever want to

aleck,” Alessia said, flicking

a small red

way, my number hasn’t changed.” What she meant was: don’t go sneaking out again–but

had somehow found its way ir his pocket. His gear was all there–nothing had been pawned off.

one name stared back at him:

phone, a pang of envy twisting in his chest. He thought of

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shabby apartment feel warm. Ivan seemed so

stab of jealousy. It seemed the only person who’d ever

Two years ago

is waiting,” Butler Dawson called, knocking softly on

York was curled up on his bed, absorbed in

“Young master.”

going. Let him go back where he came from,” York grumbled, fed up with being nagged. He hurled

threshold.

Scott for instructions. The reply was blunt: use the key, and if that didn’t work, break the lock. Dutifully, Dawson fetched the

the area, searching the roads below. He hadn’t counted on York’s knack for mischief–the boy had crouched in a patch of tall grass, watching until

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