Chapter 9
Henry asked whether Aunt Camille was going to cut Bunny again.
That question settled more than any council decision.
“No.”
“How know?”
“Because she won’t be near Bunny.”
He nodded.
Then:
“Or Violet?”
“No.”
He relaxed.
Simple.
Boundary first.
Camille requested to see the children.
I said no.
She cried.
Still no.
“You’re taking them from me.”
I stared.
“They are my children.”
“I helped raise them.”
“Yes.”
“I love them.”
“I believe you.”
That surprised her.
Love was not the disputed fact.
Safety was.
“You locked Violet.”
“I panicked.”
“You threatened Henry’s toy to find her.”
“I needed the card.”
“You used something he loved to frighten him.”
She covered her face.
Then whispered:
“I didn’t know Derek recorded us.”
Wrong center.
Again.
I waited.
She eventually corrected herself.
“I shouldn’t have done any of it.”
Better.
Not enough.
Derek was easier.
He wanted negotiation.
Position.
Money.
Protection.
He asked what he could offer.
I told him nothing.
That frightened him.
Men like Derek understand transactions better than consequence.
He finally asked:
“What happens to me?”
“You leave Kessler.”
“And Camille?”
“Not your concern.”
He laughed bitterly.
“She’s my wife.”
Interesting.
He had spent months treating her as a useful path into Kessler.
Now marriage became sacred.
I looked at him.
“Then perhaps behave like one outside my house.”
Derek lost every Kessler relationship.
No operational access.
No family events.
No contact with the children.
Personal life remained his.
I did not need revenge.
Irrelevance would do more.
Vincent was different.
He still had supporters.
Old ones.
Men who believed Elena’s trust was an insult to family unity.
May you like
That required something larger than removal.
It required daylight.
