Chapter 8 - THE REBUILDING
The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of legal transfers and security upgrades.
I spent my days in boardrooms,
handing over the keys to the kingdom.
My soldiers were restless,
unhappy with the loss of territory.
But I was a man with a new focus.
I spent my evenings with Mave and Posie.
I learned that Posie loved strawberries and hated the sound of the vacuum cleaner.
I learned that Mave still liked her tea with two sugars and a splash of milk.
We were a family,
in the strangest of ways.
Mave got a job at a small design firm in Soho.
She didn't use the Hail name.
She used Whitlock.
I watched her from a distance,
making sure she was safe,
but giving her the space she needed to breathe.
One afternoon,
I took Posie to the park.
We were sitting on a bench,
watching the pigeons.
"Dada?"
she asked.
"Yes,
sweetheart?"
"Why does Mommy cry at night?"
I felt a pang of guilt.
"She's just tired,
Posie."
"She's been through a lot."
"But she's happy now,"
I added.
"Are you happy,
Dada?"
I looked at the little girl with my eyes.
"I'm the happiest man in the world,"
I said.
And I meant it.
May you like
But the peace was fragile.
And the shadows were still waiting.
