On the Penthouse floor, the elevator whooshes open revealing a single door.

My door.

To my home.

Where I live.

Holy shit, this is really happening.

My life is never going to be the same.

“This is my home,” I mutter, digging for my keys. “Our home.”

“Are those real?” Hannah points at the dual pots of fake trees.

“Uh, no. There’s no light here so they wouldn’t survive if they were real. Come on inside.” Unlocking the door I roll the suitcases against the nearest wall, and lay the tote bag of her shoes on top.

God, look at her. She’s so tiny in this big space.

I may as well have brought a kangaroo, it’s that weird seeing a child walking through my modern living room of mostly black and silver furniture. The art is five times her size. But she has only one thing in her sights and that’s the amazing view. Floor-to-ceilings windows cover an entire side of my penthouse, and they showcase the cityscape to perfection. Her little hand presses against the glass, the other clutching Lou to her body as she stares out in awe.

“That’s Atlanta. The city I grew up in. It’s your new home.” When she doesn’t say anything, I ask her, “Uh…are you hungry?”

She nods and follows me into my kitchen, gazing at all the silver cabinets and long, black countertops. There’s a kitchen island that houses my sink and the cutting boards I prepare food on. In a large, silver bowl are green, organic grapes that won’t be good for much longer.

“Climb on that chair and have some of these.” I push the bowl over as she scrambles up, never letting go of her doll. She plucks a grape off and starts peeling it, eating the skin first, then the inside, glancing to me as she goes for a second one.

“You eat them one at a time?”

She nods and plucks her next victim, peeling it just like the first.

“Huh, okay.” I stick my head in the fridge and find the thing empty save for condiments and some eggs. “You want eggs?”

Her cute little nose squishes up and she shakes her head, plucking another grape and inspecting it with all ten fingers. She decides it isn’t good and puts it back.

“What was wrong with that one?”

“Too squishy,” she says, as if it’s obvious.

“I see.”

I will learn over time, amusement and a little frustration, that food texture is a big thing with her. It’ll take three separate occasions before I learn that mushrooms are vile to her. She will spit them out in front of anyone watching. She thinks they feel like slugs.

But tonight I’m not retaining much. “What do you think of your new home?”

She shrugs, eyes locked on peeling a firm grape.

“Not impressed?” I smirk.

She shakes her head.

Chuckling, I pull my phone out and set it on the counter, sliding my suit jacket off next. “Wow,” I mutter getting a whiff of my scent. “I am ripe. Are you okay on your own, Hannah? If I set you up with some T.V., can I go take a shower?”

“Of course,” her twinkly voice informs me.

“Oh, all grown up I guess.”

She nods a few times.

“Well, I’m going to carry you over anyway.” I lift her off the chair, put her on my hip and grab the bowl of grapes on my way to my black leather couch. “I normally smell very good so forget what your nose is telling you right now. This is stressed out Justin, not normal-scented Justin.” Setting her and Lou down I place the fruit beside her and reach for the remote, searching channels until I spot Disney Family. “This should be good,” I mutter, turning up the volume. “Too loud?” She shakes her head, eyes already locked on my sixty-two inch flat screen. “Nice T.V. huh?”

She doesn’t look at me, and nods. Thank God. It makes me feel better that she’s impressed by something.

“I will be right over there!” I point toward my bedroom. “If you need anything, just yell at me and bang on the door.” She gives no sign she heard me. “Okay, then.”

In case she wants to make a break for it while she has the chance I lock the security chain on the front door. There’s no way she can reach it unless she drags a chair over.

Powering my phone on I wince as the screen blows up with messages of every kind.

All of my family has called.

Even Jeremy.

Since he got home from the Marines, he’s been distant, so seeing his name here is the only surprise.

“You okay, Hannah?” I warily call to her.

No reaction. I’m invisible.

Under my breath, I mutter, “Better finish this shower before commercial.”