Chapter 13
Beatrice requested a meeting with Elena.
Elena refused twice.
On the third request, she agreed under one condition.
Lucy would not attend.
They met in Rebecca’s office.
No family mansion.
No banquet room.
No bodyguards standing behind anyone.
Beatrice looked older.
Not harmless.
Just older.
She started badly.
“I never intended for Lucy to fall that hard.”
Elena stared at her.
Rebecca said nothing.
Beatrice tried again.
“I was angry.”
Elena’s voice was flat.
“You kicked a chair out from under a four-year-old.”
“I know.”
“You took her dinner.”
“I know.”
“You told her she belonged in the kitchen.”
Beatrice looked away.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Beatrice gave the old answer.
“Because I believed family traditions were being erased too quickly.”
Elena stood.
The meeting was about to end.
Beatrice panicked.
“Wait.”
Elena did not sit.
Beatrice looked at the table.
Then said something different.
“Because I knew you would react.”
Elena stayed standing.
Beatrice continued.
“You never let anyone insult that child.”
“My daughter.”
“Yes.”
Beatrice swallowed.
“Your daughter.”
It was the first time Elena had heard her say it without irony.
“I thought if I pushed hard enough, you would leave the dinner and refuse the meeting.”
“You used Lucy to manage my vote.”
“Yes.”
Elena’s eyes filled with tears.
Beatrice looked up.
“I told myself she was too young to understand.”
“That’s what everyone says before they hurt children.”
Beatrice had no answer.
Elena sat again.
Not because she forgave her.
Because she wanted the rest.
“Did you ever believe she wasn’t family?”
Beatrice thought for a long time.
“I believed blood mattered more.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Beatrice closed her eyes.
“No.”
Elena felt the answer more deeply than she expected.
“You knew she was family.”
“Yes.”
“And you still did it.”
“Yes.”
There it was.
No ideology left to hide behind.
No legal ambiguity.
No tradition.
Just a choice.
Elena stood again.
This time Beatrice did not stop her.
At the door, Elena turned.
“If Lucy ever sees you again, it will be because she wants to.”
Beatrice nodded.
May you like
Elena left.
That was the last private conversation they had for more than a year.
