Chapter 11 - THE QUESTION VICTOR COULD NOT ORDERSix months later, Victor took me to the rebuilt west wing.
The old nursery was gone.
In its place was a bright room.
Books.
Toys.
Sunlight.
“What is this?”
“The Vale Center.”
I stared at him.
He had created a foundation for children rescued from coercive institutions.
“No.”
Victor blinked.
“No?”
“You don't get to name it after me without asking.”
“I thought you'd like it.”
“I do.”
He looked confused.
I laughed.
Then he smiled.
A real smile.
Ethan ran into the room.
He shouted, “Nana!”
Behind him came Ava.
My mother was learning how to be a mother to an adult daughter.
I was learning how to let her.
We were all beginners.
That evening, Victor took me to the garden.
He seemed nervous.
Victor Blackwood.
Nervous.
I enjoyed it.
He reached into his pocket.
I said, “If that's an employment contract, I'm leaving.”
He laughed.
Then he knelt.
I stopped breathing.
“Annalise Vale.”
His voice shook once.
“I've spent most of my life believing control could keep people safe.”
He looked toward the house.
“I was wrong.”
Then at me.
“You taught me that love isn't control. It is trust.”
He opened the box.
“I cannot order you to stay.”
“Finally.”
He smiled.
“So I'm asking.”
I cried before he finished.
“Yes.”
“You haven't heard the question.”
“Yes.”
“Annalise.”
“Yes, Victor.”
He stood and kissed me.
From an upstairs window, Ethan screamed, “NANA!”
We laughed.
May you like
It was not elegant.
It was perfect.
