Chapter 4 - Crossing the LineThe drive back to Cold Spring felt incredibly slow,
even though my driver was speeding,
weaving through the afternoon traffic.
I watched the trees blur past the window,
feeling an urgency I had never known,
a desperate need to reach my own house.
When the car finally pulled up to the entrance,
I did not wait for the driver to open my door,
stepping out before the vehicle fully stopped.
The grand doors swung open,
and my butler,
Thomas,
greeted me with a polite nod.
Welcome home,
sir,
he said,
taking my coat,
though his eyes held a hint of surprise.
You are back early,
he noted,
hanging the jacket in the hall closet.
Where are they,
I asked directly,
skipping the usual pleasantries entirely.
In the kitchen,
sir,
Thomas replied,
gesturing toward the back of the estate.
I walked quickly down the long corridor,
the scent of baking sugar filling the air,
guiding me like a beacon.
Pushing open the swinging kitchen doors,
I stopped in my tracks,
taking in the chaotic scene before me.
Maria was standing at the counter,
covered in white flour,
trying to roll out a piece of dough.
Lily was sitting on a high stool,
her hands sticky with something sweet,
giggling uncontrollably at her mother.
It was a picture of pure joy,
painted right in the middle of my sterile house,
breathing life into the cold stone walls.
I stood there for a long moment,
just watching them,
afraid to break the spell.
Then Lily saw me,
dropping a handful of flour on the floor,
and pointing a chubby finger in my direction.
Efan is back,
she shouted,
her voice echoing off the high ceilings,
drawing Maria panicked attention.
Mr. Cole,
Maria gasped,
wiping her hands frantically on her apron,
her cheeks flushing a deep red.
I am so sorry,
she stammered,
stepping in front of her daughter protectively.
We were just baking some cookies,
and I promise I will clean this mess up immediately,
she added,
her voice trembling with that familiar fear.
I walked slowly toward the counter,
ignoring the flour dusting my expensive shoes,
keeping my eyes fixed on her.
Maria,
stop apologizing,
I said firmly,
though I kept my tone gentle.
This house has never smelled so good,
I admitted,
leaning against the marble island,
looking at the tray of misshapen cookies.
Are those chocolate chip,
I asked Lily,
winking at her flour-covered nose.
Yes,
she cheered,
offering me a piece of raw dough.
I took it without hesitation,
May you like
popping it into my mouth,
ignoring Maria shocked gasp.
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