Chapter 8
Noah was afraid of the laundry room.
Obviously.
But the detail I did not expect was what frightened him most.
Not the dryer.
The folded blankets.
Every time blankets appeared, he thought Agatha was going to hide something.
“What?”
He pointed toward his arms.
Marks.
My chest tightened.
Agatha had used blankets to cover red wrists before.
Not only today.
The dryer was not the first restraint.
I spoke to Tyler again.
He admitted Elias had once made Noah hold his hands flat on the dining table while Agatha wrapped a napkin around his wrists because he kept reaching for bread.
Not tied tightly.
Enough to teach him.
The adults called it correction.
Tyler laughed because everyone else did.
Then one day he stopped finding it funny.
“When?”
He looked at me.
“Today.”
“Why today?”
He started crying.
“Because Noah said Mommy would come.”
That changed him.
Until then, adults had taught Tyler nobody important objected.
Then I appeared.
Not because I knew.
By chance.
His entire moral map cracked in one moment.
He looked at me.
“I thought this was normal.”
That sentence hurt more than anger.
May you like
Children learn normal from whoever has the room.
Elias and Agatha had controlled too many rooms.
