Chapter 3 - The Return to Brookline
The silver Mercedes pulled through the heavy iron gates of the Morrison estate at eleven-fifteen that morning. The heavy rain had given way to a thick, ghostly fog that drifted through the manicured hedges and towering oak trees surrounding the estate.
When the car stopped in the gravel driveway, the front door of the mansion flew open before James could even turn off the engine.
May Chen stepped out onto the porch, clutching a cardigan around her shoulders. Behind her, three small figures emerged into the damp air.
Daniel, David, and Desmond stood in a row on the stone steps. They were dressed in matching navy-blue sweaters and grey trousers, but their clothes looked loose on their small frames. Daniel’s eyes were rimmed with red; David was clutching his favorite worn-out velvet bunny; Desmond stood slightly behind his brothers, his thumb pressed tightly into his mouth.
Martha opened the passenger door and stepped out onto the gravel.
For two seconds, no one moved.
Then Daniel let out a sharp, ragged sob. "MARTHA!"
He didn't run down the steps; he launched himself down them, his small sneakers skidding across the wet stone. David followed right behind him, dropping his bunny onto the wet steps, and even Desmond ran, his small legs pumping as fast as they could go.
Martha dropped to her knees right there in the wet gravel, ignoring the mud soaking through her jeans.
The three boys slammed into her at once, their small arms wrapping around her neck, her waist, her shoulders. They buried their faces into her wool sweater, their loud, hysterical sobs cutting through the fog.
"You came back! You came back!" Daniel cried, his small fingers tangled tightly in Martha’s hair. "Daddy didn't make you leave forever!"
"I promised you, didn't I?" Martha whispered, her arms wrapped around all three of them, holding them so tightly against her chest that there was no space between them. She kissed the top of Daniel’s head, pulled David closer, and reached out to scoop Desmond onto her lap. "I told you I wouldn't leave you alone in the dark. I always keep my promises."
David sobbed into her neck. "The lady with the sharp voice said you were gone because we were bad boys!"
Martha’s head snapped up, her eyes flashing with a sudden, lethal fury that made James, standing by the driver’s side door, take a step back.
"Who said that to you?" Martha asked the boys, her voice dropping into a calm, gentle tone even as her eyes burned.
"Miss Vance," Daniel sniffled. "Before she packed her big red bag this morning. She said you were a dirty maid and Daddy kicked you out because we screamed too much."
James felt a surge of violent rage rise in his chest. He took three steps toward the porch, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles popped.
May Chen met his eyes from the top of the steps and gave him a single, grim nod. "Miss Vance is currently upstairs in her quarters, Mr. Morrison. She is waiting for her final severance check."
"She won't be getting a check," James said, his voice terrifyingly quiet.
He walked past Martha and the boys, his long strides carrying him up the steps and into the grand foyer. He didn't take off his coat. He marched straight up the curved marble staircase to the west wing, where the staff quarters were located.
He threw open the door to the nanny's suite.
Brenda Vance, a sharp-featured woman in her late forties dressed in a pristine navy-blue uniform from Vanguard Care, was sitting at the desk, calmly typing on her tablet while a designer suitcase sat open on the bed.
She looked up, her expression adjusting instantly into a practiced, sympathetic smile.
"Ah, Mr. Morrison," she said, standing up and smoothing her skirt. "I am so glad you've returned. As I mentioned to Mrs. Chen, the situation with the boys has become entirely unmanageable. The emotional instability they displayed this morning—"
"Shut your mouth," James said.
Brenda froze, her artificial smile faltering. "I beg your pardon?"
"You have five minutes to take your personal belongings and leave this property," James said, his voice shaking with restrained fury. "If you are still on my land in six minutes, I will have my security team physically throw you into the street, and I will personally call the district attorney to file charges of child endangerment and emotional abuse against you."
Brenda’s posture stiffened into defensive arrogance. "Mr. Morrison, you are severely misinformed. Mrs. Victoria Sterling herself personally hired our firm to implement behavioral discipline—"
"Victoria Sterling does not own this house!" James roared, stepping into the room until he was inches from her face. "I own this house! These are MY sons! And if you ever speak to them, touch them, or come within five hundred feet of them again, I will spend every dollar in my bank account to ensure you spend the rest of your life in a state prison!"
Brenda went white as paper. She didn't say another word. She frantically zipped her suitcase, grabbed her purse from the desk, and practically ran past him into the hallway.
James stood in the center of the empty room, his chest heaving as he stared at the wall.
Downstairs, he heard the soft sound of Martha’s voice coming from the kitchen. She was singing a slow, rhythmic lullaby—a tune Catherine used to hum when the boys were infants.
James walked out to the balcony overlooking the foyer.
Below, in the grand hallway, Martha was carrying Desmond in her arms while Daniel and David held onto the hems of her sweater, walking beside her toward the kitchen. May was pouring hot cocoa into three porcelain mugs, a rare, genuine smile resting on her face.
For the first time in six months, the air inside the mansion didn't feel cold.
But as James stood watching them, his eye caught something resting on the console table near the front entrance—a sleek black folder that Brenda Vance had dropped in her hurry to leave.
James walked down the stairs, picked up the folder, and opened it.
Inside were medical reports, daily log sheets, and a copy of a legal contract stamped with the official seal of the Massachusetts Probate and Family Court.
At the top of the main document, printed in bold black lettering, was the title:
PETITION FOR EMERGENCY GUARDIANSHIP AND ASSIGNMENT OF CONSERVATORSHIP over Daniel, David, and Desmond Morrison.
The petitioner listed on the document was not a state agency.
May you like
It was Victoria Sterling, Catherine’s mother.
And attached to the petition were twenty-four signed affidavits from twenty-four Vanguard Care nannies, each detailing the "severe mental incompetence, paternal neglect, and violent emotional instability" of James Morrison.
