Chapter 36 - The Question
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Winter returned to the Vermont cabin, bringing a deep, insulating quiet to the mountains. Harper was six years old now, her mind expanding rapidly, asking questions that Mia often had to carefully navigate. They were sitting by the fireplace, stringing popcorn for the small pine tree they had cut down from the woods.
Harper paused, holding a kernel of popcorn in her small fingers. She looked into the dancing orange flames, her brow furrowed in deep concentration.
"Mommy?" Harper asked quietly.
"Yes, baby?" Mia replied, expertly threading a needle.
"Where is my dad?"
The question hit Mia like a physical blow, stealing the breath from her lungs. She had known this day was coming. She had prepared for it in therapy, rehearsed the words in her head countless times, but hearing the question spoken out loud in the safety of their home was still terrifying.
She set her needle down, taking a deep breath, pushing the panic away. She would not lie to her daughter, but she would not burden her with the brutal, violent truth either.
"Your dad died, Harper," Mia said softly, looking directly into her daughter's wide eyes. "Before we moved here."
"Was he sick?" Harper asked innocently.
"No. He wasn't sick in his body," Mia explained carefully, choosing every word with surgical precision. "But his heart was sick. He wanted things that weren't good for him, and he hurt people to get them. He got very lost in the dark, Harper."
Harper frowned, trying to process the complex idea. "Did he hurt you?"
Mia reached out, gently cupping her daughter’s warm cheek. "Sometimes. But that is over now. Because we left the dark behind. Mr. Vale helped us find the light."
"Is Mr. Vale going to get lost in the dark?"
Mia smiled, a fierce, protective expression. She thought of Dominic, the man who had burned his own empire to the ground to save them.
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"No," Mia promised, kissing Harper’s forehead. "Mr. Vale is very good at fighting the dark. And he would never let it touch us again."
Harper seemed satisfied with the answer. She went back to stringing the popcorn, the heavy weight of Nathan Cross safely dismissed, replaced by the simple, beautiful task of decorating a tree in a warm house.
