Chapter 3 - Love Without Safety Is Not Enough
Through the glass, Viola suddenly stood.
She moved toward the door.
An officer stopped her.
Kendra could see her mother speaking, pleading, one hand pressed to her chest.
The officer opened the interview-room door only after checking with Hale.
Viola stepped in slowly.
Elliot immediately shifted in his chair, ready to rise.
Viola looked at him with wet resentment.
“I’m her mother.”
Elliot answered, “Then speak like one.”
Kendra looked down.
A dangerous, fragile silence filled the room.
Viola turned to Kendra.
“Sweetheart.”
Kendra closed her eyes briefly.
Sweetheart was the voice Viola used when she wanted obedience to feel like love.
“Mason and Ruby are safe,” Viola said.
Kendra opened her eyes.
“Yes. Because a neighbor called police.”
Viola flinched.
“Marcus made a terrible mistake.”
“Marcus sent me messages before he left them.”
“He was panicked.”
“He planned the story.”
“He was scared.”
Kendra’s voice sharpened.
“So were they.”
Viola froze.
For the first time, the children entered the room as themselves, not as Marcus’s problem.
Kendra leaned forward.
“Mason gave Ruby his hoodie because she was cold. She asked the officer whether she was bad. Mason told police Dad said I would be in trouble if they knocked.”
Viola covered her mouth.
Good.
Let it hurt.
Let the right wound open.
Kendra continued, “They were not props in Marcus’s emergency.”
Viola began crying harder.
“Your brother is sick.”
“Then he needs treatment.”
“He’ll lose his children.”
“He left them in a hallway.”
“He loves them.”
“Love without safety is not enough.”
Viola looked physically struck by the sentence.
Elliot watched Kendra with quiet approval.
Officer Hale wrote nothing for once.
Some moments are not for transcription.
Viola whispered, “If Marcus goes to jail, it will kill your father.”
Kendra sat back.
There it was.
The family math.
Marcus hurts children.
Kendra protects Marcus.
If Kendra refuses, Otis suffers.
Therefore Kendra caused suffering.
It had taken thirty-four years and one police-station chair tipping sideways for her to see the formula clearly.
“No,” Kendra said.
Viola blinked.
“No?”
“I am not responsible for Dad’s pain if Marcus faces consequences.”
Viola’s mouth trembled.
“Kendra.”
“No.”
The second no came easier.
Not easy.
Easier.
She looked at the scratch on her forearm.
“Dad hurt me in a police station because he still thought I was easier to control than Marcus.”
Viola looked away.
Kendra’s voice softened, which somehow made it stronger.
“You watched him.”
Viola sobbed once.
“I didn’t know he would grab you.”
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“But when he did, you asked me to help Marcus.”
Viola had no answer.
