Chapter 4
Tyler finally told me about the lessons.
Not willingly.
Honestly, once Rowan stopped answering for him.
Grandfather’s lessons happened every Thursday.
Noah sat in one chair.
Tyler in another.
Elias asked questions.
Who speaks first at dinner?
Who should children obey?
Who carries the Sarto name correctly?
What makes a boy weak?
If Noah answered wrong, Tyler earned a token.
Five tokens meant he chose dessert.
Ten meant a gift.
Twenty meant Elias let him wear the old Sarto practice ring for dinner.
I stared at Rowan.
“You allowed this?”
She looked defensive.
“Dad was mentoring them.”
“They’re eleven and four.”
“Tyler is old enough to understand family structure.”
There.
Family structure.
Another polite phrase covering competition.
“What happens when Noah wins?”
Tyler looked ashamed.
“He doesn’t.”
Of course.
The questions were built so he could not.
If Noah said Mommy was in charge, Elias called it disrespect toward elders.
If he said Grandpa was in charge, Elias said he was weak because he followed whoever sounded strongest.
The point was not teaching.
It was manufacturing failure.
I looked at Elias.
“You weren’t comparing them.”
He said nothing.
“You were making sure Tyler always looked better.”
His jaw tightened.
Rowan finally whispered:
“Dad thinks Tyler should be prepared.”
“For what?”
Nobody answered.
I already knew.
Succession.
May you like
Again.
A retired patriarch with too much time and not enough authority had created a crisis around children because the present no longer belonged to him.
