“I’m putting away what’s left of the cake too. In the freezer or I’ll put it in the breakroom at work.” I turn him beneath the water and smooth one hand down his back.
Blake’s mouth curves against my shoulder. “Rosalie is going to blame you.”
“She can have another piece tomorrow.” I kiss the damp hair at his temple while he settles closer. “You’ve had enough sugar.”
He lifts his face, clearly preparing another argument, so I kiss him before he can begin.
20
Luca
Oliver and Lorenzo pick up the children after breakfast when I ask everyone to meet in the office. Rosalie leaves wearing her crown and carrying two mismatched shoes because she still hasn’t decided which pair belongs with the wedding dress. Samuel brings the paper roof he rebuilt at Nicholas’s house, while James insists on carrying the folder containing his latest changes to the ring cushion.
Oliver pauses in the doorway long enough to look at me properly. He doesn’t ask what happened or offer to postpone whatever he planned for the morning. He only reaches across Rosalie to squeeze my wrist.
“I’ll keep them through lunch,” he says. “Longer if you need it.”
Lorenzo has Samuel tucked beneath one arm while James explains something about structural support from beside hisknee. He leans in and kisses my cheek before steering all three children toward the car. Rosalie shouts that she still needs an answer about whether the baby will like dragons, and Oliver promises to settle the matter before they return.
The house quiets after the front door closes.
The complaint lies open on the office desk beside the transcript of Josie’s recording. Maceo has marked the edits on a separate copy without altering the original packet, while Blake has placed the known intake questions beside each clipped answer so the missing context is impossible to overlook.
I remain standing because sitting across from the desk makes me think of Josie in my office at Ember House. She occupied the guest chair with her hands folded in her lap and concern arranged carefully across her face. I remember believing her.
“She asked whether the removal hurt,” I say. Grayson moves beside me until his shoulder touches mine, but no one interrupts. “I thought she wanted to understand what it was like to have something taken out of your body that everyone else believed should stay there.”
The transcript rests beneath my hand. One of my answers has been separated from the question that came before it, leaving only the part where I admitted I’d been frightened and in pain.
“I answered because I thought she was asking as someone who’d been hurt too. She sat across from me, looked concerned, and recorded enough of it to make it sound like the choice wasn’t mine.” My fingers tighten against the paper. “She was collecting something she could hand to someone else.”
Blake turns the transcript toward himself without pulling it away from me. Luther remains near the door with his arms folded, while Maceo keeps both hands flat against the desk. No one offers an explanation for Josie’s choices because none of us has one that would change what she did.
“I let her near Maya,” I continue. “I let her participate in Philomena’s intake. They came into Ember House believing we controlled who could ask for their stories, and I brought someone inside who was collecting mine.”
Maceo’s gaze stays on me. “Her account never had access to clinical records, trauma histories, or the residents’ private advocacy notes.”
“She still had access to people.”
“Yes,” he says, without softening the answer. “That is the breach.”
The agreement loosens something in my chest and tightens something else. I don’t need him to tell me that Josie failed to reach the most restricted files. I need someone to understand that the harm began before a password or locked directory mattered.
Blake turns one of the consent forms until it faces me. His finger moves down the page without covering the resident’s signature.
“Josie exploited the access you gave her,” he says. “She didn’t erase this. Residents still choose what they disclose. Advocates still attend intake when requested. Clinical records remain separate, and the resident council still controls the governance rules.”
He reaches the final section and taps the line where the resident can revoke consent at any point.
“We fix what she reached without rebuilding the entire house around the assumption that everyone is lying.”
I stare at the form until the words begin to blur. Grayson’s shoulder remains pressed against mine, and I turn into him without planning to. I slide one arm around his waist, and Grayson immediately closes both arms around me and presses his mouth against the side of my head.
Luther moves behind us and rests his palm against my back, while Maceo comes around the desk and takes the hand I have braced against Grayson’s chest. His thumb moves slowly over my knuckles before he lifts them to his mouth.
Blake stays close enough that his knee touches mine when I finally sit. He bends to kiss my temple and leaves his hand at the nape of my neck while I breathe through the anger pressing against my ribs.
“I don’t want to hear that she may have been trapped too,” I say. “Not today.”
