Chapter 7
Imogen woke the next day without a job.
Because she resigned.
Good.
I would have changed her duties anyway while her hands healed.
She did not want to remain in service.
“Why?”
She looked at the bandages.
“I’m tired of being told pain proves character.”
That line stayed.
Odile had said pain was not an excuse for laziness.
Different wording.
Same belief.
Where did Odile learn it?
Beatrice.
Of course.
Lennox women were expected to perform composure through discomfort.
Migraines.
Illness.
Grief.
Injuries.
The family admired endurance.
Odile internalized it.
Then weaponized it against someone with less power.
Again.
Survivors can become custodians of the thing that hurt them.
Explanation.
Not excuse.
I paid Imogen everything owed.
Medical care.
Back wages during recovery.
She argued against extra compensation.
We compromised.
She accepted a temporary stipend while deciding what next.
Then she surprised me.
“I want piano lessons.”
I looked at her hands.
“After they heal.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She smiled weakly.
“Because I don’t want Odile to own the last time I touched one.”
Good answer.
Mariel offered to teach her.
Imogen hesitated.
Then agreed.
The melody became lessons.
Not evidence.
Not secret.
May you like
Music.
That mattered.
