Chapter 7
Linda called it protection.
Of course.
“She was overwhelmed.”
Emily stared.
“You were drugging my baby.”
“You were already emotional before that.”
“How convenient.”
Ryan stepped forward.
“Emily.”
She looked at him.
Not lovingly.
Not anymore.
“What?”
“You have been struggling.”
“Because my son was sick.”
“You barely sleep.”
“Because your mother was making him sick.”
“You cry.”
Emma tightened her grip around Emily.
Ryan continued:
“You miss meetings.”
“Because Noah was sick.”
Every symptom of the abuse had been repackaged as evidence against the victim.
I watched the pattern assemble itself.
Create crisis.
Blame response.
Use response to seize control.
Old tactic.
Ugly because it worked.
“What did the private examination involve?”
Lang whispered:
“Questions.”
“Only questions?”
He hesitated.
James stared at him.
“Peter.”
Lang closed his eyes.
“Medication.”
Emily went white.
I stepped closer.
“What kind?”
“Something to calm her.”
No specifics.
I didn’t need them.
“Against her will?”
Linda snapped:
“She would have agreed.”
Emily laughed once.
“When?”
“When Ryan told you it was vitamins?”
Ryan looked away.
There.
He knew.
My daughter stared at her husband.
“You were going to put something in my food.”
“No.”
Lang whispered:
“Yes.”
Ryan turned.
“You coward.”
Lang shouted:
“You brought me into this!”
The room exploded with voices.
I raised one hand.
Silence.
I looked at Linda.
“You wanted Emily sedated.”
“I wanted her rested.”
“You wanted her absent.”
“She has children.”
“And?”
Linda’s expression sharpened.
“Women with small children should know when to step aside.”
Emily’s face changed.
Not hurt now.
Anger.
Good.
Linda continued:
“Instead she kept playing Mafia princess because Daddy gave her a chair.”
I stared.
The hatred finally had a shape.
Not Emily personally.
What she represented.
A daughter with authority.
A young mother allowed to remain powerful.
Linda could not tolerate it.
Ryan had been raised inside that contempt.
Emma whispered:
“Grandma says boys run families.”
Linda turned.
“Stop repeating private conversations.”
I looked at Ryan.
“You wanted Emily’s seat.”
His jaw tightened.
“No.”
“Then whose?”
Silence.
I stepped closer.
“Mine?”
His eyes gave him away.
There it was.
May you like
Noah was not only being used to remove Emily.
Ryan was moving through her position toward me.
