“Archibald.” She breathed, like she was choosing her words. “I know who Henry Rothwell is.”
I winced.
“The whole country knows who he is.” She took a step toward me. “Did you think I didn’t know you had his novel hidden beneath your pillow?”
Damn.
“That was years ago.”
“And you’ve been circling the same questions ever since.”
“I didn’t tell you because the minute I did, it would turn into something bigger than I can control. You would hear his name and start worrying. Not because of his past but because of what he studies and the way it fascinates me. And then suddenly it’snot just a job anymore. It’s a story. A risk. A version of me you think you have to protect.”
Shit.
I pulled at my shirt like it would give my lungs more room.
“I wanted to just… do the work and be good at it. I wanted to prove I earned the position without his name making it feel loaded.”
“I know what you study, Archie.” Her hand found my wrist, thumb sweeping over my skin. “Henry Rothwell or not, this is who you are.”
She squeezed once.
“I just worry about how quickly you disappear into other people’s pain.”
“Mom.”
“Your pain matters too, Archibald.”
Did it, though?
I’d grown up learning how to tune myself—to feel things only on a frequency she could handle.
If my hurt came from being left out, from rules that kept me inside when everyone else got to leave, I swallowed it.
Ihadto.
Because her pain had always been bigger than mine.
“I’m okay,” I said, and meant it. “Really. I like the work. It’s hard, but it’s good. It feels like it matters.”
She searched my face, looking for cracks.
“I’m not drowning, Mom. I promise. I’m learning a lot. Helping, even. I think I might actually be useful.”
“Of course you’re useful. Did this man make you feel like you wouldn’t be?”
Her fingers twitched against my skin, already halfway to a strongly worded email she’d never actually send.
I smiled.
Because no—Henry hadn’t made me feel small.
If anything, he’d done the opposite.
I thought about the way he’d looked at Judith when she’d dismissed me too quickly. The way the room had shifted, like gravity recalibrating around him.
He hadn’t raised his voice.
