Chapter 4 - The House in HighlandtownBy 4:00 PM, the rain had stopped over Baltimore, leaving the narrow brick streets of Highlandtown glistening under a soft, golden afternoon sun.
Inside the two-bedroom apartment, Mrs. Adler—the elderly neighbor— sat at the small kitchen table, wiping tears from her eyes as two broad-shouldered men in dark suits quietly stacked fresh groceries into the refrigerator.
In the small bedroom, nine-year-old Caleb sat beside the window, clutching his dented tin box covered in baseball stickers against his chest, refusing to sleep, refusing to eat, his small face pale and exhausted.
The front door opened quietly.
Caleb jumped up from his chair, his heart hammering against his ribs as he ran out into the hallway.
Roman Calder walked through the threshold, holding a bundle of soft blankets in his arms. Resting inside those blankets, her face cleaned, her wounds bandaged by Roman's private physician, was Nora.
"Nora!" Caleb cried out, running forward.
Roman immediately dropped onto one knee, gently lowering Nora onto the soft couch in the living room so Caleb could reach her.
"Caleb..." Nora whispered, opening her eyes, her lips curving into a soft, trembling smile as she pulled her little brother into a warm embrace.
Caleb buried his face against her shoulder, letting out long, shuddering sobs that he had been holding back for six days. "You were gone... they told me you weren't coming back..."
"I promised you, didn't I?" Nora whispered softly, kissing his dark hair. "I told you I'd always come home."
Roman stood up slowly, stepping back into the shadow of the hallway to give them privacy. His severe features softened completely as he watched the two siblings hold each other under the afternoon light.
Caleb looked up from Nora's shoulder, his brown eyes locking onto Roman standing near the doorway.
The nine-year-old boy wiped his tears with his sleeve, setting his tin box flat onto the coffee table, looking up at the feared boss of Baltimore with serious, intelligent eyes.
"Are you Mr. Calder?" Caleb asked softly.
"I am," Roman answered quietly, his deep baritone gentle and respectful.
May you like
Caleb opened his tin box, pulling out a small pile of quarters, dimes, and folded dollar bills—the forty-seven dollars he had saved for months. He pushed the box across the table toward Roman.
"Thank you for bringing my sister home," Caleb said, his voice steady despite his young age. "This is all I have. Please take it."
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