Chapter 2: The Wolf at the Door

I hesitated. But I opened the door anyway.

The stepmother was mid-rant, not expecting the door to swing open. It caught her square in the face. She clutched her nose, then glared at me, watery-eyed. There was calculation behind the pain. “So you finally learned how to open a door!”

She glared. Hard. But I saw the gears turning. Standing beside her, my niece, Lila Pierce, eyes welled up the moment she saw me.

“Uncle, I knew you wouldn’t leave me!”

Her voice trembled as she reached for my hand, little fingers stretching out. Not this time, kid. I dodged.

She glared again, her stare sharp enough to cut steel.

“She’s your brother’s only family. What’s wrong with you?”

I made my eyes go wide. Let her wonder. “Didn’t you say Nathaniel’s whole family was in the crash? Wasn’t Lila with them?”

I let my voice crack, faking confusion. She frowned deeply.

“What, surprised your granddaughter and I are standing here?”

She shot me a look that could peel paint.

Wish we’d been in the crash too, huh? Where’s your conscience?”

She made a scene, her voice booming, neighbors peeking out their doors.

I could hear the shuffle of slippers on linoleum, the hiss of whispers behind half-open doors. Nosy folks from down the hall started in.

“Oh my, what’s happening? Colin, you got no heart. Your brother’s gone and trusted you with his daughter—that’s family!”

People who didn’t know any better jumped in.

“There’s no real grudge, why leave them outside? Can’t you talk like grown-ups?”

“Tsk tsk, I heard Colin works for the county, but didn’t expect him to treat his own like this...”

Before I could say a word, my niece jumped in, hands on her hips.

“Don’t talk about my uncle like that! He’s just sad, he can’t handle it right now.”

Her voice rang out. For a second, the crowd quieted. “This is our family’s business, not yours. Besides, uncle hasn’t even spoken—how do you know he won’t take me in?”

She tilted her head and gave me a sugary smile. “Right, Uncle?”

Her eyes sparkled, and for a second, you’d swear she was just a regular kid. She looked so cute and sensible—who wouldn’t be moved? I almost rolled my eyes. She was good, I’ll give her that.

But then those intrusive thoughts—like a Twitter feed—lit up in my head:

"Way too creepy, this isn’t just a little girl—she’s way too manipulative!"

"No wonder she played him for ten years, drained him dry, then accused him!"

"His brother’s family is all trouble. Should’ve cut ties after the dad died."

"What now? Back to the same old mess..."

I could almost feel the heat from those words, like a warning siren. Not falling for it.

At the crucial moment, I smiled.

“What are you doing? I just woke up, I’m a little dazed. My brother’s gone, that’s a lot. Can’t you give me a second? Now you’re rushing me to make a decision?”

I let my shoulders sag and sighed, my voice trembling just enough to sound real. “When did I say I wouldn’t take my niece?”

With that, I crouched down and hugged Lila tight.

She looked up at me, eyes wide, my hug almost too tight.

Her arms flailed a little, caught off guard by the squeeze. The stepmother rushed up and slapped my hand. “Careful! Want to strangle her?”