In the six months she’d worked there, she had grown fond of Arthur. He was a lonely kid in a house full of expensive things but very little warmth. He often sought her out when Andrew was working late, sharing stories about the “worlds” he built with his LEGOs. Elena always listened.
“How did Arthur take the news?” she asked. “Terribly. He ran off into the woods, and Andrew is fuming,” Gail sighed. “The man is a brilliant engineer, but he has the emotional intelligence of a brick.”
Elena looked out the window. The five women were stepping out of their cars, looking like they stepped off a runway. High heels, designer handbags, perfect hair. They looked like collectibles, not mothers. Poor Arthur, she thought.
“Elena, stay out of it. Andrew is on a warpath. If he catches you talking to the boy today, you’re fired,” Gail warned. But Elena couldn’t stop thinking about Arthur. Was he hiding? Was he crying? He was only nine, and he’d lost everything that mattered to him.
Through the kitchen window, she watched Andrew greeting the women. They were all smiles and charm, clearly eyeing the Miller fortune. But where was Arthur? “Gail, I’m just going to check the sprinklers in the back,” Elena lied. “Elena, don’t!” Gail called out, but Elena was already out the back door.
The Miller estate was sprawling. Beyond the pool and the manicured lawn was a wooded area with a small decorative bridge over a creek. That’s where she found him. Arthur was curled into a ball under the bridge, his face hidden in his knees. He wasn’t crying; he was just… gone. “Arthur? You okay, buddy?” she called softly.
He looked up, startled, but relaxed when he saw it was Elena. “I’m not going back there,” he said flatly. Elena sat down on the grass next to him, not caring about her uniform. “Tough day, huh?”
“My dad wants me to pick a mom from a catalog,” the boy said with a bitterness that didn’t belong on a nine-year-old’s face. “I don’t even know them.” Elena wanted to pull him into a hug, but she kept her distance, respecting his space.
“You don’t think any of them could be a good fit?” she asked gently. “My mom was Sarah. She loved me because I was me. These ladies… they’re here for the house and the cars. They don’t even know my middle name.”
“How can you be so sure?” Elena asked. “Because my real mom loved me before I was even born. She loved me when I was sick or when I was being a brat. These women? They’re just auditioning for a role.” Elena blinked back tears.
Arthur understood things most adults spent years in therapy trying to figure out. “Your dad is probably hurting too, Arthur. Sometimes people make bad choices when they’re lonely,” she tried to explain. “He’s trying to replace her,” the boy insisted. “He hid all her photos. He wants to pretend she never existed.”
Elena reached out and touched Arthur’s hand. “Can I tell you a secret?” she asked. “My mom told me that the people we love never really leave. They live in the way we act, the things we remember, and the kindness we show others. Your mom is still here, Arthur. She’s in you.”
Arthur looked at her, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “I talk to her every night before I go to sleep. I tell her about my day. And you know what she told me last night?” “What?” Elena whispered. “She said that when it’s time to find someone to help us, my heart will know. I don’t need Dad to tell me.”
Elena felt a chill. “And is your heart saying anything right now?” Arthur looked at her for a long time. “It says you’re the only person in this house who actually gives a damn about me.”
Just then, Andrew’s voice boomed across the lawn. “Arthur! Get out here now!” The boy flinched. “He’s going to make me choose,” he whispered. Andrew was getting closer, his voice tight with anger. Elena made a split-second decision. “Stay here. I’ll go talk to him.”
“No, Elena, he’ll fire you!” Arthur cried. “Let him. I’m not going to let him bully you today. I promise.” Elena stood up, brushed the dirt off her skirt, and walked toward the pool area. She found Andrew standing with the five women, looking red-faced and embarrassed.
“Mr. Miller!” she called out. Andrew spun around. “Elena? What the hell are you doing? I told Gail to keep the staff in the back!” “Arthur is by the creek. He’s terrified, Andrew. He’s a nine-year-old boy who misses his mother, not a business merger.”
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