Chapter 13
Anthony changed too.
He became irritating.
Good.
Every unusual absence now reached me.
Mother skips lunch?
He asks.
Ella’s nanny replaced?
He asks.
Bianca changes travel plans?
He asks.
At first I said:
“Anthony, I do not need a report every time someone misses soup.”
He replied:
“You complained when I didn’t.”
Fair.
We adjusted.
The larger change was cultural.
No relative could restrict another family member’s access to food, medication, transportation, or communication as discipline.
It sounds absurd to need such a rule.
Families with power need absurd rules because informal authority grows in shadows.
Staff needed clarity.
If Hattie said:
“Adelaide isn’t eating tonight.”
A cook could ask Adelaide.
If Nolan said:
“Salvatore doesn’t want this person contacted.”
Staff could verify.
No disrespect.
No career risk.
My old-school capos hated it.
One said:
“Too many people asking questions slows a house.”
I answered:
“My mother lost six dinners because nobody asked one.”
Conversation ended.
Bianca later told me:
“You’re turning into a bureaucracy.”
I stared.
“That is the cruelest thing anyone has said to me.”
She laughed.
Good.
We found balance.
Not forms.
Not paperwork.
People.
Direct voice.
May you like
That was the principle.
Power should shorten the path to truth, not lengthen it.
