Page 176 of Merciless Daddy

“You are not in trouble for having this thought,” I said.

Her eyes fixed on mine.

“You are not going to be punished for an idea. Or fear. Or for wanting to protect people.”

Her throat moved.

“Then why do you look like that?”

“Because I hate that you believed this was the only way to save them.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away too fast.

“I didn’t believe it was the only way.”

“No?”

“I believed it might be the fastest. The most effecient.”

“Ah.”

There it was. The Sokolov lesson.

Do not ask whether the price is right. Ask whether payment clears.

I took her hands. They were cold.

“You are being corrected tonight,” I said, “because you skipped a meal. You lied when I asked if you had eaten. You lied when I asked if you were overwhelmed. And you ignored your bedtime.”

Her expression folded inward.

“All rules you chose with me,” I continued. “Rules you chose because you know what happens when pressure makes you forget you have a body.”

“I know.”

“I am not correcting your fear. I am correcting the way you tried to disappear into usefulness.”

Her eyes filled again. I squeezed her hands once.

“The agreement gives us a low-key consequence for deliberate self-neglect. Ten minutes in the corner. Then an honest conversation.”

She stared at our joined hands.

“You can refuse. If you refuse, we still have the conversation. I still feed you. I still put you to bed. There is no punishment for saying no.”

Her lips trembled.

“I want the corner.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to feel that you mean it.”

The answer was raw enough to leave no room for anything but care.

“All right,” I said.

I stood and moved the chair away from the wall beside the fireplace. It was a quiet wall. Cream paint. No shadowy corners. No locked doors. Nothing intended to frighten her.