Chapter 15
Grace tried to resign the next morning.
I refused to accept immediately.
Not because I owned her decision.
Because I wanted to hear why.
“I failed your mother.”
She stood in my study with her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles had gone white.
“I failed you.”
I looked at her.
“You warned me.”
“Not enough.”
“No.”
I nodded.
“But neither did I listen enough.”
She started crying.
I hated how surprised she looked by that admission.
Men like me were trained to treat noticing as everyone else’s responsibility.
My mother had been afraid.
Grace had tried.
I was busy.
Power makes a convenient excuse when you are the one benefiting from it.
“What do you want?” I asked.
Grace wiped her face.
“To take Annie somewhere quiet.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
I nodded.
“Then go.”
She looked startled.
“You’re not angry?”
“Why would I be?”
“You need staff.”
I almost smiled.
“I need Annie to stop thinking breakfast can kill people.”
Grace covered her mouth.
That hurt both of us.
Later, I found Annie sitting on the back stairs with her rabbit.
She held the hundred-dollar bill.
“Mr. Carter?”
“Yes?”
“Do I have to give this back?”
I crouched.
“No.”
Her eyes widened.
“Why?”
“Because it bought the truth cheaper than Victoria expected.”
Annie frowned.
Four-year-olds do not appreciate metaphor.
I tried again.
“You keep it.”
She looked at the bill.
“I don’t want it.”
“Okay.”
She handed it to me.
“Can you buy Mommy pancakes?”
I laughed before I could stop myself.
“Yes.”
“And strawberries.”
“Yes.”
“And no bad butter.”
My chest tightened.
“No bad butter.”
She nodded.
Deal complete.
May you like
A child had just reduced the entire night to the only consequence that mattered to her.
Breakfast should feel safe again.
