Celeste became silent.
Aaron continued.
“You made a nine-year-old earn permission to eat snacks because she has future inheritance.”
“That is not fairness.”
“That is punishment.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“You did not have to mean it.”
He remembered Sophie from another life? No. Avoid confusion.
Aaron took a breath.
“The harm does not disappear because the motive makes sense to you.”
Celeste’s crying softened.
“Do the kids hate me?”
“No.”
“Does Nia?”
“I haven’t asked.”
“Aaron.”
“I will never ask a child whether she hates an adult.”
“That question would make her responsible for your feelings.”
Silence.
“What did the therapist say?”
Celeste knew they had started family therapy.
Aaron did not ask how.
Probably Jordan.
“That Nia needs space to describe what happened without being asked whether she wants reconciliation.”
Celeste whispered:
“I want to see her.”
“No.”
“When?”
“When the therapist says it is appropriate and Nia agrees.”
“I’m her stepmother.”
“You are not entitled to access because of a title.”
“That’s cruel.”
“No.”
Aaron closed his eyes.
“It is a boundary.”
He ended the call soon after.
The children began therapy with Dr. Maya Franklin, a family psychologist in Columbus who had a rule Aaron initially hated.
No one was allowed to ask after sessions:
“What did you talk about?”
Parents received safety-relevant information.
Not content.
Aaron struggled.
He wanted to know everything Nia had experienced.
Dr. Franklin corrected him.
“You want information because information makes you feel able to repair.”
“Yes.”
“Your daughter needs one room where repairing is not immediately demanded.”
That was difficult.
So Aaron learned another sentence.
“How did the session feel?”
Not:
What did you say?
Nia’s answers changed.
“Bad.”
“Tiring.”
“Okay.”
“Funny.”
Once:
“Safe.”
Aaron nearly cried in the parking lot.
Jordan and Layla participated too.
Their biological father, Derek Walker, flew up from Georgia after learning what had happened.
Aaron had met Derek only twice.
He expected hostility.
Instead Derek walked into the kitchen, looked around, and said:
“My kids want to stay here until school break.”
Aaron stared.
“They’re your children.”
“I know.”
“They also call this home.”
Derek sat.
“I’m not taking them across three states because their mother screwed up.”
Aaron respected him immediately.
Derek continued.
“But summer they’re coming with me.”
“Good.”
“And if Celeste loses custody temporarily, we need something formal.”
“Agreed.”
They worked with lawyers.
Jordan and Layla remained in Ohio through the semester.
Then came the first family-therapy session involving Celeste.
Only Jordan and Layla attended.
Nia declined.
Aaron did not argue.
Afterward, Layla climbed into Aaron’s car and cried.
Jordan remained silent until they reached home.
Then:
“Mom said sorry.”
Aaron nodded.
“How did that feel?”
Jordan gave him an annoyed look.
“Therapist phrase.”
“Apparently.”
“Bad.”
“Why?”
“She kept saying she did everything for us.”
Aaron waited.