Chapter 6 — The Grandmother Who Arrived Too Late
Margaret’s voice softened.
“Blair… please. Let us fix this.”
I looked at her for a long moment.
Really looked.
Not as an enemy.
Not as a villain.
But as something worse.
A woman who only realized consequences when they stopped being reversible.
“You don’t fix what you ignored,” I said quietly.
A pause.
“You only learn to live without it.”
Philip stepped forward one last time.
“This isn’t over.”
I nodded slightly.
“Yes,” I agreed.
“It is.”
I closed the door slowly.
Not violently.
Not dramatically.
Just final.
The lock clicked.
Inside, I walked to my son.
Picked him up.
Held him close.
Outside, I heard Margaret call my name once.
But I didn’t answer.
Because for the first time since my husband died…
May you like
I wasn’t asking for permission anymore.
I was building a life they no longer had access to.
