Chapter 2
I closed the conservatory.
Guests moved into the donor salon.
Nobody left until I understood how many people knew Harlan Pike had been inside my property.
Owen went upstairs with my physician and his nanny.
I stayed until he stopped shaking.
Only then did I return.
Victor sat as though we were beginning a business meeting.
Celeste stood behind him.
Interesting arrangement.
“You restrained me.”
Victor shrugged.
“If you had interfered immediately, the lesson would have failed.”
I stared.
“My son was underwater.”
“For seconds.”
“He cannot swim.”
“He would have learned.”
Celeste finally spoke.
“I was right there.”
I turned toward her.
“You pushed him.”
Her face tightened.
“Victor said—”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“Your hand.”
“Your choice.”
She stopped.
Good.
I looked at my uncle.
“When did Harlan return?”
“Six weeks ago.”
Six.
I had spent much of those six weeks moving between New York, Nevada, and Chicago.
Owen remained mostly at our family residence with staff.
And Celeste.
A cousin I trusted.
A woman who had practically begged to help after my regular nanny became ill.
Convenient.
“What have you done to him?”
Victor sighed.
“You make it sound barbaric.”
“It was barbaric when you did it to me.”
Silence.
That mattered.
Victor had spent decades refusing that word.
He called my childhood disciplined.
Protective.
Effective.
Never abuse.
He looked at me calmly.
“And yet here you are.”
There it was.
Survival used as endorsement.
I almost laughed.
“You think I became strong because Harlan terrified me.”
“You did.”
“No.”
My voice dropped.
“I became strong despite the fact that every adult I trusted kept telling me terror was love.”
For the first time, Victor’s face changed.
Small.
Enough.
Then Rafe entered.
He had checked the propagation wing.
One room had recently been cleared.
Foam mats.
A child-sized chair.
A battery lantern.
A whistle.
And beside the door, six colored wooden tokens.
One for each completed “lesson.”
I looked at Celeste.
“How many?”
She whispered:
“Five.”
The koi pond had been number six.
May you like
Not improvisation.
Graduation.
