Chapter 6
Brielle refused to see her father for two days.
Declan blamed me.
Of course.
“You turned her against me.”
I looked at him.
“She watched you help use her.”
“She’s twelve.”
“Exactly.”
He hated that answer.
Brielle finally asked to speak with me alone.
She sat in the breakfast room twisting one shoelace around her finger.
“Is Finn okay?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
She exhaled.
Then:
“Did I almost hurt him bad?”
I chose the truth carefully.
“You could have.”
Her face crumpled.
I continued before shame swallowed her.
“You did something dangerous.”
She nodded.
“Adults told you it was okay.”
She looked up.
“That matters.”
Then:
“It doesn’t make what happened disappear.”
Both.
Her father had taught her cruelty as performance.
Patrick gave instruction.
Malcolm financed meaning.
But Brielle still moved the mat.
Still jerked Finn’s foot.
At twelve, she needed accountability without being turned into villain.
“Why did you do it?”
She cried.
“Dad said Finn gets everything.”
There.
Again.
Competition.
“What does Finn get?”
“You.”
That surprised me.
She explained.
Declan constantly complained that I had changed after Finn.
That family dinners revolved around him.
That Patrick softened toward him.
That everyone talked about “Mara’s boy.”
Brielle heard that as replacement.
A three-year-old had become rival without knowing.
“Do you think I love Finn more than you?”
She looked embarrassed.
“You’re his mom.”
“That isn’t the question.”
She looked down.
“Yes.”
Fair.
“I do love him differently.”
Her eyes filled.
“But your worth is not measured against his.”
That was the lesson no adult had given her.
She whispered:
“Dad said if Finn looked weak, people would stop talking about him like future boss.”
I closed my eyes.
Declan had discussed succession with a twelve-year-old.
Then used her jealousy as a tool.
I looked at Brielle.
“You never have to compete with Finn for a chair.”
“What if Dad wants me to?”
“Then Dad learns no.”
May you like
She almost smiled.
That word had become revolutionary in our family.
