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The silence stretches so thinly that I fear it will snap at any second.
At that moment, the doorbell rings.
Adam and Nova share a charged look.
I motion to Dejonae. Silently, we rise and head to the door. It does not seem like Adam and Nova are in any position to move at the moment.
I expect the person outside to be another guest or a delivery man.
Instead, there is a child around the age of twelve.
“Are you Adam Harrison?” he asks in a thin voice.
“No, sweetie.” Dejonae drops to the child’s level. “Why are you looking for Adam?”
My eyes dart behind the child to the empty driveway. There are no adults around.
Dejonae notices at the same time and asks, “How did you get here? Where are your parents?”
An uneasy feeling flows through me.
“Adam,” I call darkly, sensing that this is a serious matter.
Adam stomps to the door, his eyes narrowed and a vein bulging in his neck. His gaze falls on the little boy. Rather than brighten with recognition, he seems frustrated.
“Look, kid,” he says brusquely, “I’m not buying anything.”
“I’m not here to sell anything,” the child answers.
“What are you here for then, sweetie?” Dejonae asks, her voice kind and sweet.
Nova draws near to the door. She is peeking over Dejonae’s shoulders to see what is going on.
“I’m here for him.” The child points at Adam.
Adam blanches. “Me?”
The boy nods.
“Why, hun?” Dejonae asks.
“Because,” the boy chews on his bottom lip and then blurts, “because he’s my dad.”
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