Chapter 3

The journey took hours. The sun was beginning to set when Leo finally reached the imposing gates of the Miller estate. The festive lights of the city seemed dim compared to the brilliance of the mansion. It was a palace of light and warmth, every window glowing, music and laughter spilling out into the cold night.

He stood there for a moment, a small, shivering figure in the snow, staring at the life he was locked out of.

Through a large bay window, he saw him.

His father. Ethan.

Ethan was laughing, a sound Leo hadn't heard directed at him in a very long time. He was placing a glittering star on top of a massive Christmas tree. And next to him, helping him, was Sarah Jenkins. She was beautiful, dressed in a sparkling silver dress. And at their feet, clapping her hands in delight, was a little girl with blonde curls. Chloe, Sarah's daughter.

They looked like the perfect family. A happy father, a loving mother, an adoring child.

A replacement family.

Leo's small hands clenched into fists. He remembered sitting on his father's shoulders to put the star on the tree last year. He remembered my hands guiding his, Ethan's strong arms holding him steady. The memory was so vivid it hurt. It felt like a theft.

He pressed his face against the cold iron bars of the gate, his breath fogging the metal. "Daddy," he whispered, the sound swallowed by the wind.

Driven by his desperate mission, he found the courage to move. He walked to the security intercom, a small box mounted on the stone pillar, and stood on his tiptoes to press the button.

A moment later, a sharp voice answered. "Yes?"

It was Sarah.

"It's me, Leo," he said, his voice small. "I need to see my daddy."

There was a long silence. Then, a click. The pedestrian gate beside the main one buzzed open. Hope surged in Leo's chest. He pushed the heavy gate and slipped inside.

He ran up the long, winding driveway toward the front door, his small feet crunching in the fresh snow. But the front door didn't open. Instead, Sarah was waiting for him on the grand stone steps, her arms crossed, her face a mask of contempt.

"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in," she said, her voice dripping with scorn. She looked him up and down, her eyes lingering on his worn sweater and muddy sneakers. "What do you want?"

"I need to see my father," Leo repeated, trying to sound brave.

Sarah laughed, a cruel, ugly sound. "Your father? He's busy. He's celebrating Christmas with his real family now."

The words hit Leo harder than the cold. "This is my house too," he said, his chin trembling. "And my mommy is sick. I need his help."

Sarah's smile vanished. Her face twisted into a snarl. "Your mother? That pathetic woman? Don't you dare mention her in this house. She's nothing. A leech who tried to ruin Ethan's life."

"Don't talk about my mommy like that!" Leo shouted, his fear momentarily replaced by a surge of protective anger. "She's the best mommy in the world!"

"Is she?" Sarah took a step down towards him, her shadow falling over him. "A good mother wouldn't send her little boy out into a snowstorm to beg. She's just using you, you stupid child."

I screamed at her from my invisible prison. You monster! You're the one who did this to us!

Leo stood his ground. "She didn't send me! I came by myself! I need something!"

"Oh, you need something," Sarah mimicked in a baby voice. "Let me guess. Money? A new toy? Your mother put you up to this, didn't she?"

Suddenly, her eyes glinted with malice. She glanced quickly back at the window, making sure Ethan was still occupied. He was. His back was turned.

In a swift, vicious movement, Sarah shoved Leo.

He was small, and the push was hard. He lost his balance on the icy steps and tumbled backward, his head hitting the stone edge with a sickening crack.

Pain exploded in his head. Stars burst behind his eyes. He lay there in the snow, dazed and crying, a thin trickle of blood starting to run from a cut on his forehead.

"What was that noise?" Ethan's voice called from inside.

"Nothing, darling!" Sarah called back in a sweet, cheerful voice. "Just the wind knocking over a planter! Don't worry about it!"

She turned back to Leo, her face a mask of pure hatred. "Get up," she hissed. "You're pathetic, just like her."

She crouched down, her face close to his. "You want to see your father? Fine. But you're not walking through the front door. Not looking like that."