Chapter 17
Chapter 17:
“What are you making?” Isolde asked.
Effie held it up. It wasn’t a crane. It was a complex, multi-faceted geometric shape. A hyper-dodecahedron.
“It’s a shape I saw in my head,” Effie said quietly. “When I close my eyes, the numbers make shapes. It helps the scared go away p>
Isolde stared at the paper object. It was a perfect representation of high-dimensional topology.
She grabbed a napkin and a pen from the tray table. She drew a complex fractal pattern, a specific iteration of a Mandelbrot set, leaving a key component missing.
“Effie,” she said. “If this is the pattern, what comes next? Right here p>
Effie looked at the drawing. She didn’t calculate. She didn’t count on her fingers. She just looked at it like she was recognizing a face. She took the pen, and with a single, steady motion, drew the next intricate, spiraling formation in the sequence, perfectly scaled and flawlessly detailed.
Isolde’s breath hitched. It was correct.
Her daughter wasn’t just smart. She was a prodigy. She was a genius who used math to hide from the trauma her father had inflicted.
Isolde kissed Effie’s forehead.
“I’m going to teach you magic,” Isolde whispered. “The kind of magic that builds spaceships. And we are going to fly so far away from them, they’ll never touch us again p>
𝗙𝘰𝘭𝗅o𝘄 𝘶𝗌 o𝗻
Effie smiled. It was the first real smile Isolde had seen in years.
Two days later, Effie was discharged.
Isolde drove the rental car to the penthouse. She needed to get the rest of their things—Effie’s nebulizer, her special orthopedic pillow, and the hard drive Isolde had hidden in the safe.
She timed it for 11:00 AM on a Saturday. She knew Grayson often took Kaiden to his weekend golf lessons, but there was always a chance he’d be home.
She keyed in the code. The elevator opened directly into the foyer.
She stepped out, holding Effie’s hand.
The living room wasn’t empty.
Grayson was sitting on the white leather sofa. Belle was next to him, laughing. And Kaiden was standing in the middle of the room, holding a massive remote control.
A large, professional-grade RC plane was buzzing around the high ceilings. It was loud, like a swarm of angry hornets.
“Look at it go!” Grayson cheered, clapping.
Isolde stopped. She tightened her grip on Effie’s hand.
Effie shrank back, trying to hide behind Isolde’s legs.
Kaiden turned. He saw them. A nasty grin spread across his face.
“The bastard is back!” he yelled.
Grayson’s smile faltered. He looked at Isolde, then at Effie. He frowned slightly at his son. “Kaiden, we don’t use that kind of language.” His tone was mild, the perfunctory correction of a man more annoyed by the breach in decorum than the sentiment behind the word.
“Isolde,” he said, standing up. “I didn’t think you’d come back p>
“I’m here for my things,” Isolde said coldly. “Effie, go to your room and pack your bag. Don’t come out until I say so p>
Effie hesitated, eyeing the buzzing plane.