Chapter 20
Marcellus was ten when a classmate showed him the video thumbnail.
Not the full footage.
An old news article.
FIRE-PIT GRANDMOTHER PLEADS IN INFANT PLOT.
His own baby photograph.
Lissette had expected this someday.
Still not today.
He came home pale.
“Mom.”
She knew.
“What did you see?”
He showed the phone.
The article described:
Six-week-old Marcellus Arden.
Trust dispute.
Grandmother.
Fire pit.
Aunt blocking mother.
Video evidence.
It did not include the graphic clip.
Thank God.
“Did Grandma try to kill me?”
Lissette sat.
“We need to talk.”
“No therapy answer.”
Fair.
Prosecutors had charged and Theodora later pleaded to a serious attempted-homicide-related offense among others.
Lissette refused to tell Marcellus a softer lie.
“Grandma deliberately released you above an open fire.”
His face changed.
“Why?”
“The trust and Crownwell were part of her motive.”
“Because sixty days.”
“Yes.”
He remembered.
“Grandpa caught me?”
“Yes.”
“How close?”
Lissette’s throat tightened.
“Close enough that the doctors were grateful he caught you.”
Marcellus began crying.
Then:
“Aunt Corinne knew?”
“She knew Grandma was planning something dangerous enough that she wanted me kept away.”
“Did she know fire?”
“We do not know evidence that she knew Grandma would release you.”
“But she blocked you.”
“Yes.”
Marcellus stood.
“Why do I see Eloise?”
There.
Lissette answered immediately:
“Because Eloise did nothing.”
“But her mom—”
“Eloise is not her mom.”
He cried harder.
“Do I have to keep seeing her?”
“No.”
Good.
Cousin relationship not duty either.
“You can stop.”
“Pause.”
“Ask questions.”
“Continue.”
“That choice can change.”
Marcellus went upstairs.
Then called Eloise himself.
Lissette did not know until later.
Eloise already knew more of the story than Marcellus realized.
Her mother had explained age appropriately.
Marcellus asked:
“Did your mom almost kill me?”
Eloise cried.
“No.”
Then corrected:
“She helped Grandma.”
“My therapist says Mom did something that could’ve helped you die even if she didn’t want that.”
That sentence broke both children.
Their parents learned because Eloise’s father called.
Lissette’s instinct:
No more direct calls about this.
Then she stopped.
The children were ten and nine.
They needed guidance.
Not secrecy.
Both therapists coordinated—with consent from parents—not to force one version but to give accurate language.
Corinne herself recorded no explanation for Marcellus.
Important.
He did not need the accused adult shaping his understanding before he asked.
Lissette told him:
“Your aunt said she believed Grandma planned a frightening stunt.”
“She knew enough to know I believed you were in danger.”
“She blocked me anyway.”
“She was held responsible for that.”
Marcellus asked:
“Why did you let Eloise sleep over?”
“Because Eloise is not responsible.”
“Are you mad at Aunt?”
“Yes.”
“Still?”
“Yes.”
“Do you love her?”
Lissette looked away.
“Some part of me does.”
Marcellus stared.
“How?”
“I grew up with her.”
“She was my sister before that day.”
“That history did not disappear.”
“That also does not make what she did smaller.”
Marcellus shook his head.
“Adults are stupid.”
No objection.
Then he asked:
“Can I talk to Aunt Corinne?”
Lissette froze.
“No.”
Immediate.
Marcellus stared.
She heard herself.
Again.
He was ten.
Not adult.
Corinne had harmed him as an infant through her actions.
Protective and therapeutic concerns still mattered.
“No for now,” Lissette corrected.
“Why?”
“Because learning what happened and deciding whether to have contact with the adult involved are different steps.”
“Eloise sees her.”
“She is Eloise’s mother.”
“Not mine.”
“Correct.”
“Grandpa talks.”
“His choice.”
“Not mine?”
“Not yet alone.”
Marcellus became furious.
“You say choice then say no.”
Lissette felt the accusation.
He was right partly.
Children had choices.
Parents still had duties.
“I have to make some safety decisions until you’re older.”
“Even if I hate?”
“Yes.”
He slammed the door.
Allowed.
Months later he asked again.
This time Lissette proposed:
A written question through his therapist.
Corinne could answer.
Marcellus asked:
Why did you block my mom?
Corinne’s reply was four paragraphs.
The therapist screened it.
Then Marcellus read.
Corinne did not mention Crownwell first.
She began:
Because I wanted something and I chose not to ask enough questions about what my mother was going to do to protect it.
Then:
I saw your mother afraid.
I understood she believed you were in danger.
I moved in front of her anyway.
I did not know my mother would release you toward the fire.
I knew enough that I should have moved aside.
I am sorry.
Marcellus read.
Then:
“Did she write same to you?”
Lissette thought of Letter Five.
“Similar.”
“So she means?”
“I think she believes it.”
“Does that make it okay?”
“No.”
“Can I forgive?”
“If you want.”
“Do I?”
“I don’t know.”
He hated that.
Good.
Then he asked:
“Can she write again?”
Lissette and therapist discussed.
One answer only unless Marcellus requested more.
No relationship by default.
Marcellus did not request more for almost a year.
The world moved.
School.
Soccer.
Beetles.
Eloise.
Then at eleven he asked:
“Can Aunt Corinne come to Grandpa’s birthday?”
Lissette stared.
Anselm would turn eighty next year.
May you like
The question the adults had avoided was returning through the child who had been the reason for every restriction in the first place.
👉 Marcellus now knew exactly what Corinne had done—and instead of automatically rejecting her, he wanted the right to decide what knowing the truth would mean for his own relationship with her.
