Thriving

Mr. Diggle

The next morning, Amber was a blur running around the mansion. Anxiety kept her up half the night so when her alarm went off, she slept right through it.

"Move, I'm late!" Amber shoved past Tommy and her father in the hallway, shoes in one hand and backpack in the other. She stampeded down the grand staircase, meeting Jessica in the foyer.

"Hey."

"Why aren't you in the car?" Amber questioned.

"I always come inside when I pick you up for school," Jessica stated obviously.

"Not when I'm late!" Amber argued. She grabbed her stepmom's arm, dragging her out the front door. "Come on, if we don't leave now, you're gonna have to break the speed limit."

Once Jessica dropped Amber off at school, on time, she drove over to CNRI.

"Hey, Laurel." Jessica greeted. "Do you have a sec?"

"Not really. Adam Hunt is proving himself to be more formidable than I thought." Laurel answered.

"Just one question. That's it." Jessica promised. "It's about Amber."

Laurel paused, looking up at Jessica's desperate eyes. She sighed. "What's wrong?"

"Do I need to be worried about my custody agreement with the Queens now that Oliver is back?"

"You think Oliver is gonna take her away from you?"

"Something like that," Jessica admitted.

"He won't," Laurel stated reassuringly. "Oliver and responsibility don't mix well. Besides, Moira is the one sharing legal custody with you. For Oliver to have a real say in your custody agreement, he'd have to switch places with Moira and no court is going to appoint him any legal custody for a while."

Jessica nodded at Laurel's words. "You're sure?"

"One hundred percent."

"Thank you. For everything."

"Of course."

* * *

Most people have plans to reconnect with family when they've spent years without them. But Oliver was not like most people.

After being kidnapped by a group of mercenaries, Oliver felt his hand had been forced. In order to keep himself and Tommy alive, he attacked and killed all of their kidnappers. Then Oliver needed a cover story for the cops.

The cover story came in the form of a hooded vigilante. Even if Detective Lance and his partner didn't believe Oliver's story, it had truth in it. And that truth led Oliver to the desktop computer in his room. Several articles on Adam Hunt were scattered across the screen.

One article, in particular, caught Oliver's eye. The byline named Beth Mitchell as its author. Amber's mother. Oliver glanced between the online article and a small brown notebook with a long list of names. Names that included Adam Hunt.

"You are different." Raisa's voice ripped Oliver away from his thoughts, a tray of food in her hands. "Not like you to read a book."

Oliver flipped the little book face-down on his desk and minimized the tabs on his computer. "I missed you, Raisa."

"No kitchen on the island."

"No." Oliver shook his head. "No friends either." He stood up, taking the tray from Raisa. "Hey. Thank you." He set it down. "Do I really seem different?"

"No. You're still a good boy." Raisa assured.

"Oh, I think we both know I wasn't."

"But a good heart."