Chapter 11 - The Answer in the Auditorium
Lucas crossed the stage without looking back at his father.
I followed Caleb and Noah to the Jefferson section, where their coach had left three seats together. The brothers took the two on the aisle, leaving the middle one empty. Across the room, Daniel stood behind Hawthorne’s row, his hands braced on the back of a chair.
Lucas reached the microphone. The envelope was no longer visible beneath his arm. Maybe he’d tucked it away. Maybe he was holding it so tightly the audience couldn’t see.
The moderator smiled at him. “Lucas, your question is: What is the name of the closest star to Earth after the Sun?”
“Sirius,” Lucas said.
A hush fell over the auditorium. Even I knew the answer wasn’t right.
Lucas blinked, then corrected himself. “I’m sorry. Proxima Centauri.”
“That is correct,” the moderator said, her smile turning cautious. “Thank you.”
Lucas stayed at the microphone.
The moderator glanced toward the judges’ table. “You can return to your team now.”
“I have one thing to say first.”
In Hawthorne’s row, Daniel straightened. Vanessa, seated near the aisle, looked toward Lucas but didn’t move.
Lucas gripped the microphone with both hands. His knuckles showed white against the dark handle.
“My father told me I was an only child,” he said. “He knew that wasn’t true.”
A murmur moved through the audience, then stopped as quickly as it started. People turned toward Daniel. I felt Caleb go rigid beside me.
Lucas looked down from the stage—not at the judges, or the crowd, but at his brothers.
“Caleb and Noah are my brothers,” he said. “They didn’t do anything to deserve being kept from me. And they don’t have to explain their lives to make me believe them.”
Caleb’s hand found Noah’s. Noah took it, their fingers closing together.
My throat tightened. They had been asked to make room for a father who had never shown up. Now a boy they had met only hours ago was making room for them.
Daniel shoved his chair back. Its legs scraped loudly against the floor.
“Lucas,” he called. “Come down here.”
Vanessa stood, but she didn’t reach for her son. “Let him finish.”
Daniel turned on her. “This is not the time.”
“It became the time when you threatened him for speaking.”
The words carried farther than she might have intended. A couple in the row ahead of us looked back. Vanessa’s face had gone pale, but she didn’t retreat.
Lucas swallowed. The microphone gave a soft burst of static.
“I don’t want to choose between my parents,” he said. “I don’t want to pretend my brothers don’t exist just because Dad says the truth could hurt his life.”
Someone in the audience shifted. A program rustled, then fell still.
“I’m not saying I know what happens next,” Lucas continued. “I’m saying they’re my brothers. I’m not going to lie about that.”
The silence that followed was too big for the room. I could hear the ventilation overhead and the faint tap of a judge’s pencil against the table.
Caleb’s grip tightened around Noah’s hand. I wanted to put my arms around them both, but they were looking at Lucas, not at me. So I stayed still.
The moderator stepped toward the microphone. “Thank you, Lucas. We appreciate your—”
Daniel strode into the aisle.
“This is a competition,” he said. His voice shook with anger, though he seemed to be trying to make it sound like authority. “He’s a child. He shouldn’t be dragged into—”
“By whom?” Vanessa asked.
He stopped.
For a moment, he looked at her as if she had broken some private agreement between them. Then his eyes found Lucas onstage. “You’re coming with me.”
Lucas didn’t move.
The moderator cleared her throat. “Mr. Mercer, we need to continue the final.”
Daniel’s mouth opened. Nothing came out. The audience watched him in the same stillness they’d given Lucas, but there was no applause to hide inside, no comforting noise to turn this into a victory.
I saw Daniel glance toward the envelope in Lucas’s hand. Then toward me. His gaze asked something I had no intention of answering for him.
Noah leaned close to Caleb. “He doesn’t get to make this about us being a problem.”
Caleb nodded, his eyes never leaving the stage. “Lucas knows.”
The moderator gestured gently to Lucas. “You may return to your team.”
Lucas set the microphone back in its stand. For one uncertain second, he looked toward Vanessa.
She stayed where she was, letting him decide.
Then he walked down the steps and crossed toward Hawthorne’s row. His father stood in the aisle between him and his team.
“Move,” Lucas said.
Daniel stared at him. “You’ve made your point.”
“No. I answered a question. Then I said something true.”
“Lucas—”
“Move.”
Daniel stepped aside.
Lucas passed him, but instead of returning to Hawthorne’s seats, he stopped near the Jefferson section. Caleb and Noah rose. They didn’t rush to him, and he didn’t ask them to. The three of them stood a few feet apart, close enough to choose each other and far enough to keep their own space.
“I’m still competing,” Lucas said.
“Good,” Noah replied. “So are we.”
The moderator, visibly grateful for a way back to the event, announced the next contestant. The room stirred. Programs lifted; chairs creaked. Somewhere behind us, a phone was put away. The competition tried to reclaim its shape, but the air had changed.
The next student began answering. I heard the first few words, then lost them beneath the pounding in my ears.
Daniel didn’t return to his seat.
He watched Lucas for another moment. Then he turned toward the side exit. He walked quickly, shoulders rigid, as if leaving could make the room’s attention stop following him.
Vanessa watched him go. She looked at Lucas, who stood beside Caleb and Noah, then back toward the exit.
May you like
She took one step after Daniel.
I couldn’t tell whether she meant to bring him back—or whether she was leaving with him.
