Chapter 5 Little Masterminds

Harper

I dropped to my knees, gathering Samuel and Grace into my arms. "What are you two doing here?"

Samuel stood tall, his posture unusually straight for a four-year-old. "We asked Uncle Everett to arrange for someone to bring us. We left the day after you did."

Grace pouted, her large eyes swimming with unshed tears. "Mommy left without us! You promised we'd always stay together!"

I gently stroked her cheek, guilt washing over me. "I was only going to be away for a short while, sweetheart. I just arrived in Los Angeles and haven't even arranged proper housing or school for you yet. I was planning to bring you both once everything was settled."

Grace wrapped her arms around my neck, her voice muffled against my shoulder. "Don't care! We need to be with Mommy! Families should be together!"

Samuel stood watching us, his expression eerily reminiscent of Rowan's when he was contemplating a serious decision. "Mom, we're big now. We can take care of ourselves."

I looked between my two children, seeing both vulnerability and determination in their eyes. How could I say no to these two little pieces of my heart? I sighed and pulled them both close again.

"Alright, my little angels. You can stay, but you have to promise to behave."

I helped the twins unpack their luggage, amazed at how methodically they had packed. Grace had brought her favorite stuffed animals and art supplies, while Samuel had somehow managed to fit his laptop and programming equipment into his suitcase.

We shared a simple dinner from room service, with Grace chattering excitedly about their flight and the "nice lady" who had given them extra cookies.

"Careful with the ketchup, Grace," I cautioned as she enthusiastically dunked her french fry.

"Mom, did you see lots of important people at your meeting?" Samuel asked, neatly cutting his chicken nuggets into precise pieces.

"Yes, I did. Lots of business people interested in new technology."

Grace looked up from her plate. "Did you see any princesses?"

I laughed, the sound lighter than it had been in days. "No princesses, sweetie, just people in fancy clothes."

After dinner, I helped them prepare for bed. Once they were tucked in, with Grace already drifting off to sleep clutching her unicorn and Samuel lying perfectly still with his eyes closed, I quietly left their room, keeping the door slightly ajar.

The Los Angeles skyline glittered beneath a clear night sky as I stepped onto the suite's balcony. I took a deep breath of the cool air and pulled out my phone, dialing Everett's number.

He answered almost immediately. "I see my surprise has arrived," he said, his voice warm with amusement.

"You could have warned me," I replied, unable to keep the smile from my voice despite my attempt at sounding stern.

"And miss the opportunity to surprise the unflappable Harper Sinclair? Never." Everett chuckled. "How are you holding up? Have you already encountered Rowan?"

I sighed, leaning against the railing. "Yes, at tonight's summit. It was... intense."

"I imagine so. Five years is a long time to store up words unsaid." His tone grew more serious. "Are you alright?"

"I'm managing," I replied, watching the city lights below. "Seeing him again was difficult, but I stayed focused. He's requested a meeting tomorrow to discuss potential collaboration."

"Hmm." I could almost see Everett's thoughtful frown. "Would you like me to return early? I can rearrange my meetings in Switzerland."

"No," I said firmly. "I can handle Rowan. Besides, I now have two little bodyguards with me."

Everett laughed. "Yes, they're more effective than any security detail I could hire."

After I hung up, the weight on my shoulders felt a little lighter. Staring out at the city lights, I knew I wasn't fighting this battle alone.

---

Samuel

I waited until I heard Mom's footsteps fade away before opening my eyes. Beside me, Grace was already sitting up, her stuffed unicorn clutched to her chest.

"Is she gone?" Grace whispered.

I nodded, slipping out of bed and padding over to the door, peeking through the crack to see Mom on the balcony with her phone. "She's talking to Uncle Everett."

"How do you know?" Grace asked, scrambling out of her own bed.

"Because that's what adults do when kids surprise them." I walked over to my backpack and pulled out my laptop. "Mom looked tired. And sad."

Grace frowned, hugging her unicorn tighter. "She wasn't sad when she saw us. She was happy."

"Yes, but before that." I set my laptop on the small desk between our beds and powered it on. "When she first came in, before she noticed us, she looked... different. Not like the mom we know."

Grace climbed onto the chair next to mine. "Different how?"

I thought for a moment. "Like when you dropped your ice cream last summer and tried not to cry because you didn't want Mom to buy you another one since she said we already had too many treats."

"Oh." Grace's expression grew serious. "That's a sad-but-trying-to-be-strong face."

I pulled up a browser window and quickly navigated to a news site covering the tech summit. "Look." I pointed to a photograph showing our mother standing next to a tall man with dark hair and intense eyes. The caption read: "H.S. of Intellect and Rowan Whitaker of Whitaker Holdings in rare public appearance together."

Grace leaned closer to the screen, her eyes widening. "He looks like you, Sammy!"

I stared at the man's face, feeling a strange twist in my stomach. The resemblance was undeniable—the same straight nose, the same serious expression, even the way he stood. "I know."

"Is he... our dad?" Grace whispered.

"I think so." I opened another tab and began typing rapidly. "Remember when I accessed Mom's email last month?"

Grace gasped. "Sammy! Mom said that's wrong!"

"I know, but I wanted to send her a birthday surprise." I pulled up a folder of saved documents. "I found some old emails. This man—Rowan Whitaker—he used to be married to Mom."

"Married?" Grace's eyes grew wider.

"They weren't happy." I clicked through a few more news articles. "And look, he runs Whitaker Holdings. It's a big technology company, like Intellect where Mom works."

Grace scrunched her nose. "If he was Mom's husband, why doesn't he live with us? Why don't we call him Daddy?"

"Because he's not our father," I said coldly. "He's just a bad man who abandoned Mom and made her sad."

Grace studied the screen, then declared with the absolute certainty of a four-year-old: "Then I don't like him either."

"Me neither." I began typing again, faster now. "I'm going to look at the Whitaker Holdings website."

"Why?" Grace asked, reaching for her tablet. "Are you going to send them a virus?"

"Not a virus." I smiled, an idea forming. "Something better. A message."

Grace's eyes lit up. "What kind of message?"

"You'll help me make it." I turned to her. "Can you draw something on your tablet? Something for someone who made Mom sad?"

Grace grinned, already opening her drawing app. "I can draw the meanest picture ever—with the scariest monster in it!"

"Perfect!" I continued coding, setting up a time-delayed program that would activate at precisely 10 AM. "No one makes our mom sad," I muttered, feeling a fierce protectiveness. "Not even Whitaker."

Grace looked up from her tablet, her expression unusually serious. "We're the only ones allowed to make Mom crazy. Not him."

I nodded in agreement, our twin determination solidifying into a plan. In the quiet hotel room, with our mother's voice drifting faintly from the balcony, we plotted our small revenge against the man who had broken her heart.