Chapter 7 - MAEVE HALE
Maeve did not want to meet Stellan.
That was clear.
He respected it.
Mostly.
He asked every day whether she had changed her mind.
Grace threatened to confiscate his phone.
He reduced to every third day.
Progress.
Claire Hale finally agreed to a video call.
Not with Stellan.
With Dulcie.
The girls appeared on two screens.
Same age.
Same gray eyes.
Different hair.
Different expressions.
Dulcie talked first.
Of course.
“Your hair is darker.”
Maeve:
“Yours is curlier.”
“Do you like horses?”
“No.”
Dulcie looked offended.
Maeve continued:
“I like dogs.”
Dulcie’s face changed slightly.
The kennel.
Maeve noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Stellan sat outside the room.
Not listening deliberately.
He still heard half.
Then:
“Do you call him Dad?”
Maeve asked.
Dulcie:
“Yes.”
“Is he scary?”
Dulcie thought.
“Sometimes to other people.”
Stellan frowned outside.
The therapist hid a smile.
Maeve:
“Is he nice to you?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know about me?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
Dulcie answered:
“He cried.”
Stellan closed his eyes.
Children were dangerous witnesses.
The call lasted seventeen minutes.
At the end:
“Can we do this again?”
Both said yes at the same time.
First twin moment.
Maybe coincidence.
Everyone treated it like miracle anyway.
Maeve agreed to speak with Stellan a week later.
He sat alone.
No tuxedo.
No visible security.
Plain black shirt.
He suddenly felt absurdly nervous.
Screen connected.
Maeve stared.
He stared back.
Elena’s eyes.
Gabriel’s—no, his own jaw.
A face that felt familiar without memory.
“Hi.”
Maeve said nothing.
Then:
“You’re older than pictures.”
Stellan almost laughed.
“Unfortunately.”
“My mom said you didn’t know.”
He understood she meant Claire.
Not Elena.
“Claire told you that?”
“Yes.”
“She’s right.”
Maeve stared.
“Why didn’t my real mom tell you?”
Stellan did not defend Elena.
“She was scared.”
“Of you?”
Sometimes children found the center immediately.
“Partly.”
Maeve’s expression shifted.
“Are you dangerous?”
Stellan could have said no.
That would be dishonest.
“I have been.”
She looked down.
“Would you hurt Claire?”
“No.”
“If she doesn’t let me live with you?”
“No.”
Good.
“Would you take me?”
“No.”
Another.
“You’re my father.”
“Yes.”
“So you could.”
“Adults would decide what is legally right.”
He paused.
“But I won’t treat you like property.”
Maeve looked back.
“Imogen said you would.”
Stellan’s jaw tightened.
“What else did she say?”
Maeve hesitated.
Then:
“She said you knew there were two babies.”
Stellan felt cold.
“She lied.”
“She said you chose Dulcie because she was healthier.”
That one hit hard.
Maeve’s eyes filled.
“She said I was the extra girl.”
Stellan could barely speak.
“No.”
Maeve looked away.
“Everybody says no.”
Same phrase Dulcie used.
Twin or trauma?
Both.
Stellan leaned closer.
“You were never extra.”
“Then why did Mom leave me?”
Because fear.
Because threats.
Because Elena thought temporary would be safer.
Because adults make choices children have to live inside.
“She was trying to protect you.”
Maeve frowned.
“Did it work?”
Stellan stopped.
Brutal question.
“She kept you alive.”
“Is that the same?”
“No.”
Good.
Maeve looked surprised.
“She also kept you away from me.”
“Yes.”
“And from Dulcie.”
“Yes.”
“Was that wrong?”
“Some of it.”
Stellan swallowed.
“She did what she thought was safest. I think she waited too long to change it.”
Maeve nodded slowly.
That answer she could use.
Then:
“Do you want to meet me?”
“Yes.”
Immediate.
“Why?”
“Because I’m your father.”
“That’s circular.”
Dulcie had said that in another story? Here maybe fine, but avoid memory repetition. Let's change:
“Because I’ve already missed eight years.”
Maeve’s face softened.
Not enough.
Something.
“Maybe.”
Stellan smiled.
May you like
“Maybe is good.”
That was their beginning.
