The last person I expected to run into when I left Dad's office a short time later was the very man who had exited before me, but there he was, leaning against the side of the building, his hands shoved in his pockets, gray hair standing on end despite the shortness of the cut, Malcolm's green eyes watchful and shadowed as he scowled when I paused next to him. He made no attempt to move, to stop me and I know I could have kept going past him, past the black sedan parked around the corner with his giant bully waiting by the back door to open it for his boss. Malcolm would have made no attempt to halt my retreat if I'd chosen to walk away.
I now understood no matter what happened, I was safe with him and wondered how he'd kept the secret, why he'd not told me everything before now. Until he opened his mouth and spoke when I chose to pause and wait with as much empathy in my face as I could muster for the man who had sworn to protect me when I was born.