CHAPTER FOUR: THE VISIT
1340 Words
Ava’s cheeks received the brushing of a mild morning sun as it filtered through her curtains. She blinked, still half-dreaming, until the chime of her mother’s call cut through the quiet.
“Good morning, sweetheart. Don’t tell me you’re still in bed,” her mother teased through the speaker, laughter tucked into every word, the faint clink of cups and spoons in the background as she prepared breakfast.
Ava smiled faintly, reaching for the phone. “I’m up, Mum. Just getting ready for school.”
“Mm-hmm. You said that an hour ago yesterday,” her mother replied, a spool of thread resting beside her sewing kit. “I’ve been finishing an order for Mrs. Heinrich — the sun barely rose before I got started.”
Ava chuckled softly. “Your sewing never stops, does it?”
“Never. Someone has to make sure the world looks presentable. So, what’s your plan today?” her mother asked.
“I’ll stop by DeLuca Holdings again,” Ava said, slipping on her shoes. “I’ve been trying to book an appointment, but they keep saying he’s unavailable. I just want to say thank you, Mum — in person.”
Her mother hummed thoughtfully. “Then do it. Gratitude is best given face to face.”
Ava paused. “By the way… how’s Dad? Still driving Mr. Beaumont, I suppose?”
“Yes, as always,” her mother said with a fond sigh. “Up before dawn, navigating traffic and keeping the Beaumont household on schedule. Never misses a beat.”
“And Gammy?” Ava asked softly, concern clear in her voice. “Is she taking her medications okay? The new ones you said were expensive?”
Her mother chuckled lightly, though there was worry behind it. “We’ve been managing, sweetie. The memory lapses are still there, but she’s stable for now.”
Ava’s hand clenched slightly. “I’ll be getting paid soon. I’ll send some money across for her medications — make sure she gets the best care.”
“That would be wonderful, Ava,” her mother said warmly. “She’ll be thrilled.”
Before Ava could respond, a second voice broke in from the background — Lena’s.
“Oh, come on, Mum! You’ve been bragging about her all week!” Lena’s voice rang cheerful and dramatic. “Tell her to thank that rich man properly — and quickly!”
“Lena,” their mother scolded lightly, “a little respect wouldn’t hurt.”
“But I’m serious!” Lena continued, unbothered. “If someone spent that much fixing up your school, bake him a muffin or something!”
Ava laughed. “Lena, I’m not baking muffins for him.”
“You should! Men love muffins!” Lena shot back, her voice faintly muffled — probably rushing to get ready for her café shift. “Oh, by the way, Mum, I’ll be late today. Manager asked me to come early.”
Her mother sighed, amused. “You’ll be late to everything except that coffee shop.”
“It pays my bills,” Lena said matter-of-factly. “And someday I’ll have my own café. Just wait.”
“Dream big, dear,” her mother said fondly. “Just don’t burn the coffee again.”
Ava chuckled softly. “You two never change.”
“Go on, then. And call me when you’re done,” her mother said gently.
---
The DeLuca Holdings tower stood like a blade of glass cutting into the city skyline — sleek, commanding, and utterly intimidating. Ava stood in the lobby, clutching her small brown bag as people in crisp suits glided past her like currents she didn’t belong to.
Behind the reception desk sat Clara Evans — every inch the model of corporate precision. Her posture was perfect, hair pinned flawlessly, voice carrying the kind of authority that could quiet a room.
“Good afternoon,” Ava began politely. “My name is Ava Monroe from Greenwood Community School. I’ve been trying to schedule an appointment with Mr. DeLuca.”
Clara didn’t even glance up at first. Her fingers danced across the keyboard. “Do you have a confirmed slot, Miss Monroe?”
“No, but I’ve called and emailed. I just wanted to thank him personally for the school renovations.”
Clara finally looked up, her expression unreadable. “Mr. DeLuca’s schedule is full. He won’t be able to see you.”
Ava tried again, her voice steady but hopeful. “I understand he’s busy, but this won’t take long. I only need a minute.”
Clara’s tone sharpened slightly. “Miss Monroe, you’ll have to leave. Security—”
Before she could finish, the sound of an opening elevator echoed across the marble floor.
Adrian DeLuca stepped out. Conversations died instantly. Even the guards stiffened. His presence carried quiet authority — the kind that didn’t need volume to command attention.
“What’s happening here?” Adrian’s calm, low voice filled the lobby.
“The lady was—” a guard began, but Adrian cut him off.
“She was just trying to see me,” he said, sliding a gaze toward Clara. “You never mentioned this.”
Clara faltered. “I didn’t think you’d want to see her, sir.”
His eyes hardened slightly, disappointment evident. “You didn’t think. Clara, I’m disappointed.”
Color drained from her face as she bowed her head. “I… I’m sorry, sir.”
Adrian turned to Ava, his tone softening. “Miss Monroe, please. Come with me.”
---
The elevator ride was quiet. Ava’s reflection in the mirrored walls showed the mix of nerves and awe in her eyes. Adrian stood beside her, hands in his pockets, gaze steady ahead.
When the doors opened, his office stretched before her — all glass and skyline, sunlight spilling across polished floors.
“You can sit,” he said gently.
“Thank you,” Ava murmured, perching carefully on the chair.
He leaned slightly forward. “You came all this way just to say thank you?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “Gratitude feels more meaningful when it’s said face to face. The children love everything — the new desks, the playground, the library. You didn’t just fix a building, Mr. DeLuca… you gave them hope.”
For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, a faint smile curved his lips. “That means a lot to hear.”
“It’s the least I could do,” she replied quietly. “You made a difference.”
He nodded once, almost absently, gaze thoughtful. “I’m glad.”
Ava stood, smoothing her skirt. “That’s all I came for.”
“I’ll have someone escort you out,” he said, rising too.
“No need,” she smiled. “I’ll find my way.”
Their eyes met — calm, courteous, lingering just long enough to mean something unspoken — and then she turned, leaving the office quietly.
As the elevator doors closed, Adrian remained by the window, the city glinting behind him. Clara avoided his gaze as Ava passed, guilt heavy in her posture.
But Adrian said nothing. He only watched as the elevator lights descended — 25, 24, 23 — then turned back to his desk and the day resumed, as though nothing had changed at all.
- Writer
