His shoes were on the floor beside him. His school bag was open on the chair with a notebook spilling out, the pages covered in small, careful drawings. Richard stood in the doorway and looked at him. "Tessa," he said quietly without turning around. "I owe you the truth, some of it tonight, the rest in a day or two. Will you sit with me for a few minutes?" She nodded and let him back to the small kitchen.
They sat across from each other at a wooden table. She did not offer him tea. She did not waste motion on small things. She simply folded her hands and waited. He told her not everything, not Adrian Holst, not the recording in full detail, but enough. He told her that there had been a plan against his life that morning, that her son had warned him, that her son had almost certainly saved his life, and that the people behind the plan did not yet know that they had failed in the way they had failed.
Tessa listened without interrupting. When he finished, she sat for a long moment with her hands still folded. "I knew something was wrong," she said quietly. "Not this, but something. He has been quiet for a week. He has been drawing the same things over and over. I asked him three nights ago if anything had happened, and he said no. I should have asked harder." "He kept it from you to protect you," Richard said, "not because he did not trust you."
She nodded slowly. Her eyes were wet, but she did not let anything fall. "What do you need from me?" she said. "I need you to act in front of my wife and anyone else exactly as you have always acted. I need Elijah to stay in this house with you until I tell you otherwise. There will be people watching the property quietly. You will not see them. They are there to keep you safe. And in 2 days, perhaps 3, this will be over."