Chapter 8
Theo woke after fourteen hours hungry enough to hate everyone.
Excellent sign.
He ate pancakes.
Then more pancakes.
Then fell asleep again on my chest.
Leah sat nearby looking exhausted.
I asked her to remain as nanny.
She looked shocked.
“After I didn’t tell you?”
“Yes.”
Then:
“With changed boundaries.”
She nodded.
No secrecy from Sabine.
No threats controlling staff communication.
If Theo wandered, I hear about it.
If anyone gives Leah an instruction involving sleep, food, medication, discipline, or confinement, she reports it.
Not because Leah needed a surveillance state.
Because unclear authority had helped Sabine isolate her.
Then Leah said something that bothered me.
“Sabine told Theo you approved the lessons.”
I looked down at my son.
Of course.
“What exactly?”
That I wanted him to become “Rourke strong.”
That sleeping when told not to meant disappointing Daddy.
My stomach turned.
Control through borrowed love.
The oldest trick.
I waited until Theo woke again.
“Buddy.”
He blinked.
“Did Sabine say I wanted you awake?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t.”
He stared.
“She lied?”
“Yes.”
Simple.
No adult euphemism.
“Why?”
Harder.
“She was scared you remembered something.”
He thought.
“The red door.”
“Yes.”
“Uncle Julian.”
“Yes.”
Then:
“Was I bad?”
My throat tightened.
“No.”
“Because I saw?”
“No.”
“Because I got out bed?”
“You should wake Leah next time.”
He nodded.
Specific accountability.
No shame.
Then he asked:
“Bell gone?”
I looked toward the reading lounge.
“No.”
His face changed.
I understood.
The bell itself had become frightening.
We would deal with that later.
May you like
For now, he slept.
That was enough.
