Chapter 11
Miriam asked to return after four days.
I refused.
She came anyway.
That was Miriam.
My guards called before stopping her at the gate.
I went out myself.
She stood beside a black sedan wearing pearls as though we were about to attend dinner.
“You’ve made your point.”
“No.”
She frowned.
“You embarrassed Conrad. You scared the junior men away from the proposal. Fine.”
“That wasn’t the point.”
“What was?”
I looked at her.
“You frightened Eli on purpose.”
She sighed.
Again.
The sigh bothered me more than anger.
“You still think this is about the child.”
“Yes.”
That finally irritated her.
“Then you are not ready to lead this family.”
I almost smiled.
“Interesting.”
She stared.
“You think because you love him, you should shield him.”
“I think because he is three, nobody gets to use fear as political education.”
Her face hardened.
“My father started training boys at four.”
“And what did that create?”
Silence.
I knew some of the stories.
Miriam’s brothers hated one another.
One died refusing to speak to the other.
A family built on proving strength until affection became suspicious.
She looked away.
“You don’t understand that generation.”
“No.”
I nodded.
“I understand enough.”
She stared at me.
I continued.
“You survived cruelty and renamed it tradition.”
That landed.
Her eyes changed.
Not guilt.
Memory.
Good.
“I’m not asking you to become soft.”
“Then what?”
“To stop handing your wounds to children and calling them inheritance.”
For the first time, Miriam had nothing ready.
She looked toward the estate.
“Can I see Nathan?”
“Ask Rachel.”
“And Eli?”
“No.”
Her face tightened.
“Forever?”
“No.”
May you like
That surprised her.
“Until he wants to.”
