Chapter 2
I moved everyone away from the water.
Not because I feared the boat anymore.
Because Theo did.
Every time the hull knocked softly against the pier, his hands tightened around Daniel.
We went into the marina lounge.
Briana sat at one end under guard.
Lucas sat at the other.
Theo chose my lap.
That choice broke my son’s face more effectively than any punishment I could have designed.
I did not enjoy it.
“Tell me about the debt.”
Lucas stared at the carpet.
Six months earlier, he invested in a private waterfront venture without telling me. A restaurant, event pier, and small luxury docking operation.
Not criminal.
Not forbidden.
Just stupidly expensive.
I had advised against it.
He did it anyway.
The project failed.
Then pride did what pride usually does.
Instead of telling me, Lucas borrowed from Malcolm Vane.
“How much?”
He gave me the figure.
Large.
Not impossible.
Certainly not worth a child.
I frowned.
“You could have sold the property.”
“Briana said we could recover.”
Briana’s jaw tightened.
Lucas continued.
“So we borrowed again.”
There.
The debt grew because neither wanted the humiliation of admitting the first decision failed.
“How did Theo enter the conversation?”
Silence.
I looked at Briana.
She answered.
“Malcolm suggested it.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“And you said yes?”
“I said we would consider it.”
Theo shifted against me.
I felt my anger become colder.
“Do not make language do your moral work for you.”
She stared.
“You packed his bag.”
Silence.
“You brought him to a boat.”
Silence.
“You called him a small price.”
Her face hardened.
“Yes.”
At least honest.
Then Lucas whispered:
“I thought he’d be back.”
Theo looked at him.
“Back when?”
Lucas could not answer.
I stroked my grandson’s hair.
“Soon, sweetheart.”
I hated myself for how vague that sounded.
Then Daniel entered carrying Theo’s travel bag.
“Ma’am.”
He opened it.
Children’s clothes.
Medication.
Stuffed rabbit.
A framed photograph.
Not of Lucas.
Not of Briana.
Me.
I picked it up.
On the back, in Malcolm’s handwriting:
SO HE REMEMBERS WHICH FAMILY HE REPRESENTS.
I stared at it.
May you like
Malcolm had not asked for Lucas’s son.
He had asked for Eleanor Carbone’s grandson.
