My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 373

So, even though the voice outside the door wasn’t loud, Emily Blair could hear every word, clear as day.

“Emily Blair, open the door.”

It was a deep, resonant voice—familiar, commanding, carrying that same weight and pressure she’d come to expect. The kind of voice that felt like a storm about to break, or the moon about to disappear behind gathering clouds.

Of course, it was Andrew Lane.

Emily’s brows knit together. She turned to Emma George, gently pushing her mother’s hand away. “Mom, go back to your room. I’ll handle this.”

Emma had recognized Andrew’s voice too. Her voice grew anxious. “What is Andrew Lane doing here?”

Emily’s gaze dropped.

She could guess why Andrew had come—most likely because of the post she’d made online.

But she didn’t tell her mother that. “It’s nothing, Mom. He’s here to see me. Please, just go to your room. I’ll talk to him.”

Emma, however, was too rattled to let go. She grabbed Emily’s arm, refusing to budge. “No way. That’s Andrew Lane out there! I don’t feel safe leaving you alone with him. Whatever you need to say, I’ll be here.”

“You think I don’t know what’s going on just because you won’t tell me?” Emma’s tone sharpened. “I know all about that Starlight Piano Competition mess. Don’t try to hide it from me. And Andrew Lane—he’s always helping Austin bully you. And those awful things people are saying about you online—I know all about that, too!”

Emily froze for half a second.

She had told her mother about recent events, but she’d left out the dangerous parts, only mentioning the broad strokes and her next steps. She never imagined Emma could piece together so much on her own.

Emma gave an indignant little huff. “Don’t think I’m clueless just because I’m getting older. Don’t underestimate me—I go online too, you know. I’ve seen how those people talk about you. And I have friends in this building—some of the neighbors told me what’s going on.”

A complicated mix of emotions welled up inside Emily.

Andrew held her gaze for a moment longer, as if measuring her patience. Emily’s eyes narrowed as her composure began to slip. “If you’re not coming in, you can leave,” she said flatly.

Only then did Andrew deign to break eye contact, finally stepping inside.

As soon as she closed the door, Emily strode past him, beating him to the living room and dropping onto the edge of the sofa, arms folded across her chest. She didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Sorry, there’s no coffee or tea. I can’t offer you anything. Make yourself comfortable.”

For any guest, this would have been rude—especially for someone as powerful as Andrew Lane. Most people would have considered it reckless, even dangerous.

Andrew, though, just glanced at her, then sat down on the other end of the couch.

The sofa was long enough that there was a good two-person gap between them.

But Emma George wasn’t having it. She’d been sitting on a single armchair to Emily’s right, but the moment she saw Andrew settle at Emily’s left, she shot to her feet and wedged herself firmly between them, landing beside Emily and putting a solid barrier between her daughter and Andrew Lane.