Tara nods immediately. "Of course. If I find anything out of the ordinary, I'll let you know."
She keeps her tone reassuringly neutral to avoid sparking unnecessary panic. Both women let out a synchronized breath of relief.
"Thank you, Tara. Go ahead and take him to play. Don't worry about entertaining us old folks," Lindsay says with a warm laugh.
"Exactly," Zoey chimes in. "Look at him, he's practically vibrating with excitement."
They know better than to force a young woman to sit around making small talk with the older generation all night, so they usher them out of the room.
Gavin doesn't hesitate. He grabs Tara's hand with a beaming smile and leads her down the hall toward his private suite. Watching him act like a normal, lively child fills Lindsay and Zoey with profound relief, making them wish they had crossed paths with Tara years ago.
Gavin expertly navigates the sprawling manor, pulling Tara toward his massive playroom. But before they can even cross the threshold, Danny—who has been waiting in the hallway—reaches out and snatches Tara by the waist.
"Little brat," Danny growls, glaring down at the boy. "You're holding my woman's hand a little too naturally."
"I’m not your woman." Tara retorts, slapping his arm away. "How old are you, seriously? Picking fights with a child?"
"This is incredible, Gavin. Your talent is off the charts," Tara murmurs in genuine awe as she examines his paintings and schoolwork.
A boy not even ten years old is flawlessly executing master-level art techniques and scoring perfectly on advanced, college-level math. That isn't just talent; it is world-class genius. If he hadn't been held back by his physical frailty and psychological trauma, he would already be a prodigy dominating the academic world.
But rather than joy, a dark sense of dread washes over Tara.
She steps closer to Gavin, gently taking his small wrist to check his pulse while keeping her voice incredibly soft. "Gavin, I need you to be completely honest with me. When no one else is around... does anyone ever do things to you? Like hitting you, threatening you... or drawing your blood?"

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