Chapter 9
Lucy asked where Bianca was.
That happened that night.
I had expected relief.
Children do not work that way.
“Where Bee?”
That was what she called her.
Bee.
Small name.
Soft.
Painful.
“She’s not staying here.”
Lucy looked confused.
“Because food?”
“Yes.”
“She mad?”
“Probably.”
“Because me?”
“No.”
I said it immediately.
Too immediately.
Lucy still looked uncertain.
I sat beside her.
“Nothing that happened is because you are bad.”
She touched my hand.
“Bee says I act animal.”
“I know.”
“Am I?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
She thought about that.
Then:
“Dogs nice.”
I almost laughed.
“Yes.”
“Then why bad?”
Good question.
The insult was not even fair to dogs.
“It wasn’t about dogs.”
“What about?”
I searched for language a three-year-old could carry.
“She wanted you to feel small.”
Lucy looked down.
“Why?”
“Because she was wrong.”
Simpler.
Better.
I did not explain succession.
Inheritance.
Factions.
All adult garbage.
Children do not need to know why adults weaponize them in politics.
They only need to know the weapon was never their identity.
Lucy looked toward the door.
“Emma stay?”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
That mattered.
Not me.
Emma.
The person who had protected her when I was gone.
Good.
I wanted Lucy’s world to include safe adults beyond her father.
May you like
Otherwise every protection system depended on my presence.
That was exactly the weakness Bianca exploited.
