Morning came slow and gray.
Veronica entered the kitchen in silk and confidence, heels sharp against the tile.
“We need to talk,” she said, pouring herself coffee.
Michael said nothing.
“This situation with the housekeeper—it’s inappropriate,” she continued. “She’s crossing lines. Emotional attachment isn’t healthy. For Lily. Or for us.”
Her tone carried that last word like ownership.
“Either she goes,” she said, “or I do.”
Michael stood quietly. Then walked past her into the security room.
He pressed a button. The screens came alive.
Veronica’s face flickered across every frame—sharp words, cold gestures, Lily shrinking smaller and smaller.
“This is out of context,” she hissed.
“No,” Michael said softly. “This is clarity.”
He turned to her, voice steady.
“You don’t get to decide what’s best for my daughter. And you don’t get to threaten me with your absence like it’s punishment.”
Her mask cracked. “If you choose her—if you choose that woman—you’ll regret it.”
“I already regret choosing you,” he said.
There was no shouting, no drama. Just truth.
And for the first time, Michael wasn’t thinking about the cost. He was thinking about the child who finally laughed.
CHAPTER FIVE: THE VOICE
Later that morning, Veronica’s suitcases rolled down the marble hallway.
Aisha stood near the stairs, silent, uncertain, ready to be dismissed next.
But Lily—small, brave Lily—stepped forward.
When Veronica turned to snap one final insult, Lily spoke.
“Don’t.”
Her voice was small, fragile—but it was a voice.
The first word she had spoken in months.
Veronica froze.
Michael dropped to his knees, tears breaking loose.
Lily turned and buried herself in Aisha’s arms.
“She’s kind,” she whispered.
It was enough.
CHAPTER SIX: THE HEALING
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