Noah's Adventure - 16. Budding Artist

Uncle Matt, Uncle Nathan, and Uncle Nick launched into explaining the family history to Dame and Dom. While they were talking, we got word that Caleb and his mother had been escorted home safely by the security team.

“What Aunt Carly did was stupid,” Little B said out of nowhere.

Uncle Matt froze mid-sentence. “What was that?” he asked, staring at his son—who was just sitting at the conference table coloring like nothing was wrong.

Everyone went silent. Grandma, especially, had that tight, furious look she’d been getting lately—always the same look right before we discovered Tristan was involved.

A knock at the conference room door broke the tension. Uncle Nick and Grandma stepped into the hallway. The rest of us just sat there, nerves on high alert, all of us replaying Little B’s comment.

“Little B,” I said softly. “Is Tristan bothering you?”

“No,” he replied casually. “He’s my friend.”

The look of panic that flashed over Uncle Matt and Uncle Brody’s faces told us all exactly how bad that was.

Grandma and Uncle Nick returned and motioned everyone to sit.

“First,” Grandma said, “the house is secure and will remain that way until this issue is resolved. Security will be monitoring it around the clock, and no one is to go back there. Second—this situation is escalating further than it should. Grayson, did you call Grace?”

“I did. She’s going to try for an emergency hearing with the judge.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what she’s planning, but I trust her.”

Grandma nodded. “Good. In the meantime, there are sleeping quarters here in the underground bunker. It’s actually quite nice.”

“Are we going to be safe?” Dame asked. Fair question.

Grandma and Grandpa laughed like we should already know the answer. If that were true, why did we have to leave the house?

“Damian, we are extremely safe here,” Grandma said. “This place is more secure than Fort Knox.”

Grandpa nodded. “And there’s less chance of the neighbors getting hurt.”

“Yes, and we also have access to… things,” Grandma added, trailing off.

“What kind of things?” Shiloh asked. Several of us leaned in.

“Let’s just say anyone who comes here won’t live to talk about it,” Uncle Nick said plainly.

“We have all these powers and abilities, but we have to come to a fortress for protection?” I asked, annoyed. It felt like they were hiding something.

Uncle Nick sighed. “If this place—or any Matthews-descendant property—gets attacked, the family shows up to help.”

“How is that a problem?” Dom asked.

“Because there are thousands of us. And I’m not exaggerating.”
That earned snickers from the older generation.

“It would look strange for that many people to show up in seconds without transportation,” Grandma said dryly. “It would raise questions I’m not interested in answering.”

“Mom, we have a problem,” Uncle Matt said, relaying Little B’s comment. A storm of emotions flashed across Grandma’s face—fear, fury, something else I couldn’t place.

“Brody, honey,” Grandma said gently, “tell Grandma what’s going on.”

Little B kept coloring like he couldn’t hear her.

“Brody Justin. Answer your grandmother,” Uncle Brody said, patience cracking.

Little B finally set his crayons down and slid the paper toward Grandma.

She looked at it—and went pale.

“Who… what—” Grandma stammered, handing the drawing to Uncle Matt. His eyes widened in horror.

“Tristan,” Uncle Matt growled through gritted teeth.

Just then Grayson’s phone chimed. He scanned the screen.

“Grace got us in front of a judge first thing in the morning,” he said. Then his expression dropped. “She wants Noah and me there in person.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Grandma snapped. “Not happening.”

“Let me make a few calls,” Grayson said, already standing. “I’ll have a private flight chartered so us being in San Diego doesn’t look suspicious.”

“Good idea,” Grandpa said.

Grayson stepped out of the room, his nephews trailing behind.

Silence settled. Shiloh squeezed my hand under the table. My pulse was still hammering. Something felt… wrong.

“Little B?” Uncle Matt said suddenly, panic rising. “Brody?”

That’s when I noticed the chair beside me was empty.

Grandma and my uncles vanished instantly.

I looked down at the table and realized Little B had left the drawing behind. I picked it up.

At first glance it looked like a bunch of people being burned alive—scribbles and flames. But the details…

The faces…

My blood went cold.

It was my mother.
My stepfather.
My uncle.
My maternal grandfather.

All burning.

Just curious if anyone had Little B as one of the two going after Noah's mom?
Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed the chapter.
 
Comments, reactions or both are always welcome.
Also @weinerdog may finally get his explosions