“No.” Elissa’s expression tightened with regret. “I have to work late tonight—I won’t be able to come over. Please tell Locke for me.”
“What?” Kira’s surprise was evident in her voice. “Locke will be so disappointed if you don’t show up.”
“Sorry, I have to go now.” Robin’s car pulled up to the curb, and Elissa cut the conversation short, ending the call abruptly.
Back at the Flynn Mansion, Kira was still holding the phone when the sound of small footsteps echoed from upstairs. Locke bounded down the stairs, his practice session complete, his chubby arms raised high with excitement.
“Is it Miss Holland? Is it Miss Holland?” His voice bubbled with enthusiasm. “Kira, let me talk to Miss Holland!”
But Kira had already put the phone down.
The boy’s excitement dimmed slightly. “Wasn’t that Miss Holland?”
“Yes, it was.” Kira nodded gently, her hand stroking his soft hair. “But Miss Holland had to hang up quickly.”
“Oh…” Locke’s lower lip jutted out in disappointment, but he brightened quickly. “That’s okay—she’ll be here soon!”
“Locke.” Kira’s sigh carried the weight of bad news. “Miss Holland is working late tonight and won’t be able to visit. She called specifically to let you know.”
“She isn’t coming?” Locke’s voice dropped to a whisper, his cheeks puffing out like a little chipmunk. Then, with sudden determination, he asked, “May I please call my dad?”
Ernest maintained strict rules about technology. Locke wasn’t permitted to handle electronic devices, which meant he had no phone of his own. Any phone calls required adult approval first.
“You want to call your father?” Kira’s brow furrowed with confusion. “What do you need to tell him?”
Despite her puzzlement, she agreed. “Alright, I’ll dial the number for you.”
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“That’s alright—I know Dad’s number by heart.” Locke stepped forward confidently, lifted the receiver, and dialed the familiar sequence with surprising skill.
“Hello.” Ernest’s voice came through the line, crisp and professional.
“Dad.”
Ernest had just stepped out of the sanatorium when his son’s small voice caught him completely off guard, snapping him back to awareness. “Locke?” His tone shifted immediately to concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Dad!” The words tumbled out in a rush. “Did you and Miss Holland break up? Did you dump her, or did she leave you?”
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Locke’s relentless questions sent a sharp pain through Ernest’s temples. Instead of answering, he countered with a question. “How did you find out about Miss Holland and me being together?”
They had never spoken openly about their relationship with Locke. Keeping it from him had been Elissa’s idea; she wanted to wait until after their wedding to tell him.
“Where did you hear this? Who told you?” His voice carried an edge of urgency.
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