Chapter 12
Claire came home three months later.
Not to my house.
To a small accessible apartment ten minutes away.
Mara helped furnish it.
Ellie chose yellow curtains.
Nora chose nothing at first.
Then she saw a blue blanket and held it to her chest.
“This one.”
So we bought it.
The first night Claire slept there, Nora refused to leave her side.
I slept on the couch.
Mara slept in a chair.
Ellie slept on a pile of pillows on the floor because she insisted this was a “family camp.”
At two in the morning, Claire called my name.
I went to her room.
Her speech had improved.
Her eyes were clear.
“I need to tell you about Vivian.”
I sat.
“She was not always like this.”
I did not want to hear that.
Claire saw it.
“Bad people are easier if they were always bad.”
I said nothing.
She continued.
“Your mother found Vivian when she was desperate. Young. In debt. Angry at the world. She paid her to watch you, but Vivian wanted more.”
“She married me.”
“Yes.”
“She had Ellie.”
Claire looked at the doorway where my daughter slept.
“Maybe she loved her.”
My jaw tightened.
“No.”
“Daniel.”
“She locked a child in a wall.”
“Yes.”
Claire’s voice softened.
“And if you make Vivian a monster from birth, Ellie may think half of her came from a monster.”
That landed hard.
I looked toward the pillows.
My daughter had Vivian’s eyes.
I hated that I had noticed.
Claire whispered, “Tell Ellie the truth. But leave room for her to be whole.”
That became another lesson.
Justice could punish Vivian.
But I had to protect Ellie from inheriting shame.
The next day, Ellie asked if Vivian ever loved her.
I took a long breath.
“I think Vivian loved in a broken, selfish way. That does not make what she did okay.”
Ellie frowned.
“Can love be bad?”
“Sometimes people call things love when they are really control.”
Nora, coloring nearby, said, “Real love gives bread.”
Ellie nodded.
“And knocks back.”
May you like
I smiled through the ache.
“Yes,” I said. “Real love knocks back.”
