Chapter 11
Oliver saw Camille again at four.
His choice.
He barely remembered the engagement.
He remembered doors.
That mattered more.
We met in the garden.
Daylight.
Nora nearby.
Camille sat on a bench.
Oliver stared.
“You locked door.”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She looked at me.
I gave her nothing.
Her answer.
“Because I was selfish and wanted to control who you needed.”
Oliver frowned.
“Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“Nora?”
“Yes.”
“Me?”
Camille’s face broke.
“Yes.”
He thought.
“That bad.”
“Yes.”
Then:
“Don’t.”
“I won’t.”
That was all.
Five minutes later he wanted to chase butterflies.
May you like
Children do not exist to provide cinematic closure.
Good.
