The Billionaire Ex-Wife's Return (Cynthia and Ethan) novel Chapter 267

Chapter 267

Kevin's POV

I looked like absolute shit.

I knew I did.

I hadn't slept more than five minutes since Cynthia disappeared. Hadn't showered. Hadn't changed clothes. Hadn't done anything except pace the hallways of the Laurent mansion, make phone calls to every contact I had, and stare at surveillance footage until my eyes burned.

My reflection in the bedroom mirror told the story—bloodshot eyes, dark circles underneath them, stubble covering my jaw, hair sticking up in every direction.

I looked like a man who was falling apart.

Which, I suppose, I was.

The knock on my door made me jump.

"Come in," I said, my voice hoarse from disuse and shouting into phones.

The door opened.

And there stood Amber.

Eleven years old. Small. Scared. Wearing pajamas with little reindeer on them.

He looked up at me with those big, intelligent eyes that were so much like his mother's.

And I knew immediately that this conversation was going to destroy me.

"Uncle Kevin," Amber said quietly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "I want you to be honest with me."

I swallowed hard. "About what, buddy?"

"Where is my mom?"

The question hung in the air between us like a bomb.

We'd been lying to him.

Telling him that Cynthia had decided to stay at the hospital with Ethan, that she'd be back soon, that everything was fine.

And Amber — sweet, trusting Amber — had believed us.

At first.

He'd eaten his Christmas sauce yesterday, asked about his mom a few times, played with the toys his uncles had gotten him, and gone to bed without too much fuss.

But now it was Boxing Day.

Twenty-four hours since Cynthia had disappeared.

And Amber wasn't buying it anymore.

"She's… she's still with your dad," I said, the lie tasting like ash in my mouth. "At the hospital. He needs…"

"Uncle Kevin," Amber interrupted, his voice firm despite the tremor in it. "I may be a kid, but I'm not dumb."

I closed my eyes.

Shit.

"I just need to know," Amber continued, stepping closer. "Please. Where is my mom?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out.

What the hell was I supposed to say?

Your mom was kidnapped by your grandmother — sorry, not your real grandmother, the woman who raised your dad but actually stole your mom when she was a kid—and we have no idea where she is or if she's even alive?

Yeah, that would go over great with an eleven-year-old.

"Uncle Kevin," Amber pressed, his voice cracking now. "Please."

I looked at him and saw the fear in his eyes.

The same fear I was feeling.

The fear that something terrible had happened to Cynthia.

That we might never see her again.

"Amber…" I started.

"If you don't tell me," Amber interrupted, his voice rising, tears starting to spill down his cheeks, "I'll go back to the hospital myself and find my parents myself."

"What?" he said, his voice flat.

"Home Alone," I repeated, knowing how absurd it sounded but unable to find any other words. "I think it's on one of the streaming services. We could…"

"Are you serious right now?" Amber demanded, his voice rising. "I'm asking you where my mom is and you want to watch a movie?"

I winced.

Because yeah, when he put it like that, it sounded pretty terrible.

"Uncle Kevin, what is wrong with you?" Amber continued, standing up now, his small hands balled into fists. "Why won't you just tell me the truth?"

"Because…" I started, then stopped.

Because the truth was too scary.

Too overwhelming.

Too much for an eleven-year-old to carry.

But Amber wasn't going to let this go.

"Fine," Amber said, his voice shaking but determined. "If you won't tell me, I'll ask Grandma Victoria. Or Uncle Nathaniel. Or someone who'll actually be honest with me."

He turned toward the door.

"Amber, wait…" I said, standing up quickly.

But he was already at the door, his hand on the handle.

"I thought you cared about me," Amber said quietly, not looking back. "I thought you were supposed to be my uncle. But you're just like all the other adults. You lie."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut.

"Amber, that's not…"

The door opened.

And Amber walked out.

Leaving me standing there, alone in my disaster of a room, hating myself more than I ever had in my entire life.