CHAPTER 59: CHAPTER-59. (A SIX-YEAR-OLD PARTNER IN CRIME).

Every hallway looked the same: high ceilings, tall windows, doors lined up like soldiers.

I would have been completely lost if I were alone. But Lily walked like she’d memorized the place, like she knew every corner.

I watched her tiny back and felt a pang. She was so small, so quiet, and yet she carried herself like she was used to being invisible.

Something inside me ached.

After a few turns, she suddenly stopped. I almost crashed into her.

She pointed her small finger at a door. "Papa’s room."

I blinked at it. Simple, closed, wooden. Just another door in this endless maze. But apparently, this was it.

"Here?" I whispered, almost breathless.

She nodded. Then, to my shock, she whispered again. "Papa sleep here."

I smiled despite my nerves. "You’re amazing, Lily. Really."

She looked at me, her lips twitching, like she was proud of herself. Then she tugged my skirt one last time and said, softly, "Don’t hurt him."

My chest tightened. God. She didn’t say much, but when she did... it hit straight to the heart.

I crouched again, brushing her hair back gently. "Never. I would never hurt him. I just need to... check something. That’s all."

Her eyes searched mine for a moment, then she finally let go of my skirt. She gave me a tiny nod, as if sealing a deal.

Her eyes searched mine for a moment, then she finally let go of my skirt. She gave me a tiny nod, as if sealing a deal.

But before I could even breathe in relief, she suddenly said, "I help too."

I blinked. "Uh... help? With what?"

She tilted her chin at the door. "Papa hurt."

Oh no. Oh no, no, no. My excuse.

My completely made-up, pulled-out-of-nowhere excuse. She had grabbed it like candy, and now she wanted in.

"Lily..." I crouched again, whispering urgently. "Sweetheart, that is really sweet of you, but you do not need to. It is just a little check. Like... um... doctor thing. Very boring."

Her eyes widened, shiny and stubborn. "I see."

I froze. "See?"

She nodded firmly, little fists at her sides. "I see Papa hurt."

God, she was too stubborn like her uncle. I jerked my head a I did not want to imagine his smug face. Not now.

I tried again. "But, Lily, it is not for kids, okay? You should..."

Her lower lip wobbled, and before I could finish, she whispered the most dangerous words possible:

"I call Auntie Grace."

I swear my soul left my body. My stomach dropped straight to my toes. "No! No, no, no, no, no. Do not call Grace, please."

Her big brown eyes blinked up at me, and she tilted her head like she knew she had me trapped. Which, yes, she absolutely did.

I rubbed my temples. This kid was tiny, but she was a whole storm in disguise. "Alright," I muttered finally, defeated.

"Fine. You can... You can come. But you have to be very, very quiet. No sounds. Not even a sneeze."

She nodded quickly, her little ponytail bouncing. "Quiet."

"Promise?" I pressed, holding up my pinky like an idiot.

Her eyes softened, and she hooked her tiny pinky with mine. "Promise."

And just like that, I was now dragging a six-year-old partner in crime...into a mission that was already insane on its own.

I inhaled deeply, staring at the closed wooden door like it was the gate to doom.

My hand shook as I reached for the knob. Lily stood next to me, clutching the hem of my skirt again, her serious little face tilted up at me.

"Okay," I whispered. "We just go in, check quickly, and go out. Easy. Nothing scary."

She whispered back, "Scary."

I glanced down at her. "Scary?"

She nodded, eyes big. "If Papa mad."

Oh God. She was right. If Nicole caught us sneaking into his room to stare at his collarbone like lunatics, we were dead. Very dead.

But seeing Lily with me gave me an excuse that she was telling me that Nicole was injured and asked me to check on him. It would only work if she did not open her mouth.

Which was next to Impossible.

Still, she did not let go. And somehow, that steadied me more than it scared me.

"Alright," I muttered, more to myself than to her. "Here goes nothing."

I turned the knob slowly.

The latch clicked faintly, the sound loud in the silence of the hallway. My heart thumped so hard I thought Nicole could probably hear it from inside.

The door creaked open.

A faint draft of cool air slipped out, carrying the soft smell of cedarwood and something darker, sharper, that was just... him. My throat went dry instantly.

The room inside was dim.

Curtains half drawn, light filtering in thin golden lines.

My eyes darted quickly, scanning like a thief in a jewelry shop.

There was a desk near the window, books stacked in neat piles, a chair pushed slightly back.

A jacket was tossed across the armrest. Beyond that, a wide bed, the sheets barely disturbed.

And on that bed, half turned away, lay Nicole.

Sleeping.

My knees almost gave out from the sudden wave of panic and relief all at once.

Panic, because oh my God, I was actually inside his room. Relief, because at least he was asleep.

Lily tugged at my skirt again and whispered, "Papa sleep."

I crouched down quickly, pressing a finger to my lips. "Shhh. Quiet, remember?"

She nodded, eyes wide, her little hands gripping my skirt tighter. But there was no fear in her gaze. Only... curiosity.

I swallowed hard.

My plan had sounded simple in my head. Sneak in a quick glance at the infamous collarbone, sneak out. Done.

But with Lily glued to my side, every step felt like walking on glass.

We tiptoed closer. My heart was slamming against my ribs, threatening to give me away. Every creak of the floorboards sounded like a scream.

Nicole shifted slightly in his sleep, and both of us froze like statues. Lily’s small hand immediately slipped into mine, and I gripped it tightly, almost for my own comfort.

I leaned closer to her ear. "One quick look. Then we leave. Deal?"

She nodded, her expression so serious it was almost comical.

We crept forward again, inch by inch, until I was standing near the side of his bed.

His face was half hidden in the pillow, hair falling messily across his forehead. His breathing was deep, steady, calm.

God, he looked unfairly peaceful. Meanwhile, my nerves were fried like old wires.