Chapter 16
Heather asked to apologize to Louisa.
I said no.
She didn’t argue.
Good.
“Will she ever let me?”
“I don’t know.”
Heather cried.
I let her.
Not cruelly.
Simply without making her pain more important than my daughter’s.
Lydia watched.
“Pathetic.”
Heather looked at her.
“What?”
“You’re begging a child.”
Heather wiped her face.
“I hurt her.”
“She’ll forget.”
I stared at Lydia.
“No.”
She rolled her eyes.
“She’s three.”
“She remembered Adam’s phone.”
That silenced her.
I turned toward Walter.
He still looked furious.
Not remorseful.
“What happens to us?”
“You lose every command channel.”
His face changed.
“No private crews.”
Silence.
“No access to Miller properties.”
His jaw tightened.
“North lodge is closed.”
“You can’t—”
“I already did.”
Lydia laughed bitterly.
“You think removing keys removes us?”
“No.”
I looked at her.
“It removes your reach.”
Heather lowered her head.
Walter sneered:
“You sound like Adam.”
“Thank you.”
Again.
He hated that.
Later, I went upstairs.
Louisa was awake.
She touched the uneven side of her hair.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“Am I ugly?”
My heart broke cleanly.
“No.”
“Aunt Heather said thieves don’t need pretty.”
“You’re not a thief.”
“I know.”
Good.
At least that survived.
She looked at the longer side.
“Can we make it same?”
“Short?”
She nodded.
I called a stylist Louisa knew.
Before the woman touched her hair, she asked:
“May I comb this?”
Louisa nodded.
“May I cut here?”
Another nod.
Every step.
Permission.
Choice.
No one held her.
No one laughed.
When it was finished, Louisa stared into the mirror.
“Same.”
“Yes.”
Then she looked at me.
“Daddy had hair like mine?”
I smiled through tears.
“Sometimes worse.”
She laughed.
Downstairs, Walter had spent a lifetime believing fear made families obedient.
Upstairs, my daughter was learning something else.
May you like
Her body belonged to her.
Even inside a Mafia house.
