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was too late. The little girl was most likely already packing a bag.
    “Are you sure about this, Brayden?”
    He stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m not sure about them at all. But I’m more than sure I’d like to get out of this awful house.” And he too bounded up the stairs.
    Would there be no end to fighting tears? Whitney pulled out the card Mr. Felton had left and dialed his number. He answered on the first ring, then told her the private jet would be ready to depart as soon as she was ready and had the children packed.
    It was all moving way too fast.

Chapter Four
    K ids, you have to hurry. The car is already waiting in the driveway.”
    The last few days had gone by in a blur, what with getting assignments from the children’s schoolteachers, packing, and making sure the house was reasonably secure. And now they were off to the races. Too soon, way too soon.
    “We’re coming,” Brayden said, rolling his eyes at his aunt as he emerged from his bedroom. His excitement was obvious, but he was determined to pretend that the trip was no big deal.
    “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous, I guess,” Whitney told him.
    “Is that all you’re bringing?” he asked, throwing a doubtful look at her one pathetic suitcase.
    “I don’t need very much. You just worry about your own bags.” She ruffled his hair.
    “Yeah, yeah,” he replied. He grabbed two of their bags without being asked and made his way downstairs, then rushed back up to get more.
    Ally trailed behind Whitney as they followed the boy when all the luggage was collected. A new man was standing at her door.
    “I apologize, but Mr. Liam had to fly back last night because of a business emergency. He asked that I escort you. I’m Mr. Smotter.”
    “If he’s so busy that he can’t even accompany the kids to his father’s place, how is he going to spend any time with them?” she said, rethinking the entire journey.
    “I assure you, Ms. Steele, that the kids are this family’s top priority. They are making time in their busy lives for the kids even as we speak.”
    “I don’t know about this,” she hedged, but the kids rushed around her.
    Mr. Smotter picked up a couple of the bags and began moving away from the house. There, sitting in the little driveway, was the largest limo Whitney had ever seen, and as they climbed inside, they all felt a bit intimidated.
    “This is a really big car, Aunt Whitney,” Ally said with huge eyes. Even Brayden was far more subdued than normal.
    “Yes it is,” Whitney answered, not knowing what else to add. She refrained from muttering the words freaking waste of money , but she was definitely thinking them. And she was also speculating on the size of the Felton’s “packages” — they must be compensating for something.
    “Hello, children. As I told your aunt just now, my name is Mr. Smotter. It’s very nice to meet you both. I have snacks for you, and then you’ll be served breakfast on the jet.”
    “You talk funny,” Ally said as she moved closer to the man.
    “I speak very well, young lady,” he told her, and he seemed offended.
    “Ally, that wasn’t very polite. Would you please apologize to Mr. Smotter?” Whitney told her niece.
    Ally’s head drooped. “I’m sorry, Mr. Smotter.”
    “No offense taken, young lady,” Mr. Smotter said, clearly warming toward the young girl when he saw the distress in her face.
    Everything in the limo fascinated the two children, and they were overjoyed when Mr. Smotter opened a bottle of nonalcoholic sparkling cider. Ally giggled when he gave her a glass of the bubbly liquid in a crystal-stemmed glass.
    After they arrived at the airport, Whitney’s jaw fell several inches when the limo pulled off into a private terminal and parked in front of a huge jet with Felton Enterprises painted boldly across the back.
    “Wow! Are we flying in that? Just us?” Brayden gasped as he saw all the people surrounding the aircraft.
    “Yes, Mr. Felton has sent his