Chapter 15
My replacement car sat untouched for two months.
Not because I feared cars.
Because every time I reached for the door handle, I saw Ruth behind the cage.
Damien grabbing my wrist.
Fluid beneath the chassis.
I hated that.
Objects should not own memory.
Ruth noticed.
Of course.
One morning she appeared beside the car.
Cane.
Coffee.
No sympathy.
“Drive.”
I looked at her.
“Bossy.”
“Forty years in garages.”
I opened the passenger door.
“You’re coming.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She frowned.
“I have work.”
“So do I.”
We argued three minutes.
She got in.
Rafe checked the car.
Then another mechanic checked it.
New protocol.
Ruth approved.
We drove six blocks.
Then twenty.
Then out toward the river.
Nothing happened.
That was the point.
Ruth rolled down the window.
“You know what Sebastian hated most?”
“What?”
“Henri stopped being scared of him.”
I looked ahead.
“When?”
“After Albany.”
Interesting.
The accident intended to control my father did the opposite.
Henri realized preserving family peace by tolerating Sebastian only gave Sebastian more room.
He reduced his access afterward.
Never fully enough.
But started.
I understood.
The garage attack could turn me paranoid.
Or clearer.
I chose clearer.
When we returned, Damien was outside with dinner for Ruth.
He stepped away from the car as I parked.
Not because ordered.
Because he understood access had changed.
Small.
Useful.
Ruth got out.
Took the food.
Then looked at me.
“Car works.”
“Yes.”
“Amazing.”
I smiled.
May you like
Ordinary things becoming ordinary again.
That felt more valuable than revenge.
