Chapter 2 - The Safe Fortress
Peter lifted Drew into his arms with careful precision.
He scooped up little Lily in his other arm.
They felt terrifyingly light against his chest.
He carried them up the porch steps, leaving the scattered tools behind.
The wooden door clicked shut behind them, sealing out the fading sunlight.
Inside, the house was warm, quiet, and safe.
"Alright, let's get you two cleaned up," Peter said softly.
He carried them into the bright, spotless kitchen.
He set them gently onto the sturdy wooden chairs.
Lily clung to Drew's hand, her eyes darting around the unfamiliar room.
"Are we in trouble, Uncle Peter?" she asked in a tiny voice.
Peter knelt down so he was right at eye level with her.
"No, sweetie, not at all," he reassured her with a warm smile.
"You did exactly the right thing by coming to me."
He turned his attention back to Drew’s bleeding knee.
"That looks like it really hurts, buddy," Peter noted.
"I tripped on the concrete stairs," Drew explained, looking down at the floor.
"We had to climb out the small basement window to escape."
Peter carefully masked the fresh surge of fury that tightened his chest.
"You were very brave," Peter told him firmly.
He walked to the hallway bathroom and returned with a white first-aid kit.
He pulled up a small stool and began cleaning the nasty scrape.
Drew flinched, his small hands gripping the edge of the wooden chair.
"I'm sorry, bud, I know it stings," Peter whispered.
He gently applied antiseptic ointment to the raw skin.
He carefully secured a large, thick bandage over the wound.
"There, much better," Peter said, patting Drew's uninjured leg.
Suddenly, Lily's stomach let out a loud, hollow rumble.
She covered her face with her hands, instantly embarrassed.
Peter chuckled gently to ease the heavy tension in the room.
"Sounds like someone has a hungry bear waking up in their tummy," he teased.
He stood up and walked over to the large refrigerator.
"How does macaroni and cheese sound for dinner?" Peter asked.
"With hot dogs?" Drew asked, his hazel eyes lighting up just a fraction.
"With extra hot dogs," Peter confirmed without hesitation.
He set a large pot of water on the stove and turned on the burner.
As the water heated, he poured two tall glasses of cold milk.
He placed the heavy glasses on the table in front of the children.
They drank eagerly, holding the cups with shaking hands.
Peter watched them, his heart aching deeply at the sight.
He knew he needed to call child protective services.
He knew he had to confront his sister and demand answers.
But right now, the kids just needed to feel secure.
They needed a hot meal, a warm bath, and a safe bed.
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The legal war could wait until tomorrow morning.
Tonight, this house was an impenetrable fortress, and he was their guard.
