“Sit down,” he said quietly.
“I can’t.”
“You can. Because if you lose control, she gets to use it.”
So I sat.
And I watched.
The final clip was from three nights earlier.
Sophie was on the floor beside the crib, sobbing soundlessly while Julian slept. Penelope stood over her in a silk robe, holding a glass of water.
“You should be grateful,” my mother said. “Nicholas is extraordinary. Men like him do not stay with women like you unless someone manages the inconvenience.”
Sophie whispered something too low to hear.
Penelope crouched.
“What was that?”
Sophie lifted her face.
“He loves me.”
Penelope smiled.
“No, darling. He loves peace. I give him peace. You give him noise.”
The recording ended.
I stared at the blank screen.
