Chapter 13
Maisie eventually asked where Frank went.
I did not lie.
“He can’t visit right now.”
“Why?”
“Because he hurt you.”
She frowned.
“Renata did.”
I nodded.
“And Frank helped.”
She thought carefully.
“He held me.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes dropped.
“Because I was bad?”
“No.”
Immediate.
Clear.
She looked up.
“Then why?”
Harder.
“Because sometimes adults do wrong things and tell children it was their fault.”
She considered that.
“Like lying?”
“Yes.”
“Renata lied.”
“Yes.”
“Frank too?”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
Then asked:
“Do I have to love them?”
The question surprised me.
“No.”
She looked worried.
“What if they’re family?”
I sat beside her.
“Being family doesn’t mean you have to like what someone does.”
“Can I be mad?”
“Yes.”
“Forever?”
I almost smiled.
“If you want.”
She thought about that.
Then:
“I don’t know yet.”
Good answer.
Better than most adults.
“You don’t have to know yet.”
She relaxed.
That became the rule.
No forced forgiveness.
No family gatherings designed to prove unity.
No elder demanding a hug because blood supposedly erased fear.
Renata wrote Maisie a letter.
I kept it.
Not hidden.
Stored.
If Maisie wanted it one day, it would exist.
Frank wrote nothing.
Of course.
He still believed apology would weaken him.
Maybe one day he would learn.
Maybe not.
May you like
My job was no longer to make him understand.
My job was to make sure his refusal did not become my daughter’s burden.
