Chapter 10 - The Cracking Facade
"Do not test my patience, Henry," Eleanor hissed. "Your little theatrical performance with that girl ends today. I will buy that entire commercial block in Amsterdam and bulldoze it by summer."
"You can't buy it, Mother," Henry replied, leaning against the counter, feeling an unexpected wave of profound peace wash over him. "The property is held in a municipal land trust run by the town council. Martha Kowalski is the chairwoman of the zoning committee. Your corporate shell companies were blacklisted yesterday afternoon."
A long, suffocating silence stretched across the line. Henry could hear Eleanor’s slow, controlled breathing—the sound she made when her power failed to bend the world to her specifications.
"You think you're a hero," Eleanor whispered, her voice trembling with venom. "You are an ungrateful, cowardly boy who threw away a three-hundred-year-old family legacy for an art teacher and a crying infant."
"I didn't throw away a legacy, Mother," Henry said quietly. "I escaped an asylum. For my entire life, you told me that love was conditional on obedience. You made me believe that if I wasn't perfect, I didn't deserve to breathe. Clara taught me that love isn't a board meeting. It’s a kitchen where you're allowed to rest when you're bleeding."
"You will never see a dime of your inheritance," Eleanor said, the finality in her tone desperate now, stripped of its majesty.
May you like
"Keep the money, Mother," Henry said. "Use it to buy better mirrors. You're going to need them when the house is empty."
He pressed the red button and ended the call. He didn't block the number; he simply set the phone down and returned to kneading dough. For the first time in thirty-two years, the voice of Eleanor Sterling had no power to make his heart race.
