Chapter 7
Noah woke asking for his picture.
Not me.
Not food.
The picture.
I found it drying between two clean towels.
The colors had bled slightly from snow.
Richard now had a blue streak across his coat.
Noah frowned.
“Broken?”
“No.”
“Looks funny.”
“Yes.”
He thought.
“Still Grandpa?”
My throat tightened.
“Still Grandpa.”
He smiled.
There.
Maybe that was enough philosophy for one morning.
Then he noticed Mark sitting outside the room under guard.
Noah froze.
I saw his whole body change.
“Do you want him in here?”
Noah shook his head immediately.
No hesitation.
I respected it.
Mark saw through the open doorway.
Pain crossed his face.
Good.
Not because I enjoyed it.
Because reality should be allowed to reach him.
He asked:
“Can I say something?”
I looked at Noah.
“No.”
Mark stared.
I continued.
“He said no.”
“He’s three.”
“Yes.”
“You’re letting a toddler decide whether I speak?”
“Whether you speak to him.”
Different.
Mark’s jaw tightened.
“You’re turning him against me.”
I almost laughed.
“No.”
I held up the wet drawing.
“You did that without help.”
He flinched.
Noah climbed onto my lap.
“Grandpa?”
“Yes?”
“Daddy mad Mommy?”
I looked at Mark.
Then back to the child.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Because Anna threatened his ambition.
Because she protected him.
Because adults sometimes resent the person who sees them accurately.
Too much.
“Because they disagreed.”
Noah thought.
“Mommy bad?”
“No.”
“Daddy bad?”
I chose carefully.
“Daddy did bad things.”
He nodded.
That distinction mattered.
Children should not have to turn parents into monsters to understand harm.
Then Noah whispered:
“Claudia says Mommy made Daddy sad.”
I felt Mark move outside.
I looked toward him.
He lowered his eyes.
Again.
Blame shifted downward.
Anna made Mark angry.
Noah made Claudia punish him.
May you like
Everyone’s cruelty caused by somebody weaker.
That ended with me.
