Chapter 2 - The Glass Castle
The transition happened with terrifying, corporate efficiency. Within forty-eight hours, Marcus and Sophie were standing in the middle of a sprawling, sun-drenched penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the Puget Sound. The kitchen counters were seamless white marble, and the space was so large that Sophie’s voice echoed when she gasped.
"Daddy," Sophie whispered, clutching her stuffed giraffe. "Is this our new castle?"
Marcus swallowed the lump in his throat. He had spent the last two days waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for HR to call and say there had been a mistake. "Yeah, bug. This is it."
"It's so big! Where do I sleep?"
"Take your pick," a voice said from the entryway.
Marcus turned. Evelyn Frost stood in the foyer, wearing a tailored cream-colored suit, looking like she belonged on the cover of Forbes. She stepped into the apartment, her sharp heels clicking against the hardwood.
Sophie immediately hid behind Marcus’s leg, peering up at the tall, intimidating woman.
Evelyn stopped a few feet away, crouching down. It was a jarring sight—the Ice Monarch bending her knees to look a six-year-old in the eye.
"Hello, Sophie. I'm Evelyn," she said, her voice softer than Marcus had ever heard it. "I work with your dad."
"Are you the boss?" Sophie asked timidly.
"I am," Evelyn confirmed. "But in this castle, you're the boss. The room down the hall on the left has a window seat perfectly sized for a giraffe. You should go inspect it."
Sophie’s eyes widened. She looked at Marcus for permission. He nodded, and she took off running down the hallway.
Marcus looked at Evelyn as she stood back up, adjusting her suit jacket. "You didn't have to come."
"I wanted to ensure the transition was seamless," she said, reverting to her usual crisp tone. "Is the space adequate?"
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"Adequate? Evelyn, it's a palace. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you for this."
"You will repay me by finishing the structural blueprints for the Harbor Point lobby by Thursday," she said smoothly. But as she looked at him, the rigid lines of her posture relaxed, just a fraction. "And Marcus? Get some sleep. You look terrible."
