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Leon returned after their conversation and paced the length of the room. Carys watched him for a long time before she realized he was waiting for Valerie to wake up, helped by the constant shift of his eyes to her direction.

It wasn’t the impatient kind of pacing. No. Leon never wasted energy on anything emotional. His steps were measured, deliberate, a quiet storm gathering behind his eyes. Carys could practically feel the calculations in his mind—what happened, why it happened, who was responsible, and how to prevent it from happening again.

Valerie’s breathing shifted, soft and fluttery. Her eyelids twitched. Leon froze mid-step.

“Val?” he said quietly.

Her eyes opened.

Just like that, Leon wasn’t the ghostly enforcer. He wasn’t the weapon, the strategist, the shadow Ivon relied on. He was just an older brother—terrified, protective, waiting to see whether his sister remembered anything. He knew she did.

“Valerie,” he tried again, stepping closer. “Do you know where you are?”

She pushed up slightly, rubbing at her face. Carys sat still, careful not to interject, careful not to seem like a threat. Valerie blinked around the room until her gaze settled on Leon. And her expression changed instantly. Not fear. But withdrawal. She curled away from him, pulling the blanket closer.

Leon stilled as though struck. “Val?”

Valerie’s lower lip trembled. She didn’t make a sound. Her eyes darted briefly to Carys—then back to her lap.

Carys felt her stomach twist. She recognized this. Children used the same body language in abusive households. Hiding. Shrinking. Protecting secrets.

Leon stepped closer again. “Valerie. Tell me what happened.”

Her shoulders hunched. Silence.

“Valerie.” His voice didn’t rise, but the warning edge was unmistakable. “Look at me.”

She didn’t. Instead, she reached for the small pad on the table beside her, the one Leon always kept for her since she rarely spoke aloud. Her hands shook as she wrote—slow, uneven strokes. Then she held the pad toward him without meeting his eyes.

Leon took it.

Carys saw the moment his confusion sharpened into something darker.

It said: I’ll only talk to Carys.

Carys’s heart nearly stopped.

Leon turned his head slowly toward her. Not fast. Not shocked. Slow—like a man trying not to show the depth of his suspicion.

“Why,” he said, each syllable honed to a blade, “would she only speak to you?”

Carys lifted her hands in surrender. “I-I don’t know. Leon, I swear—”

“The longer this day grows, the more your layers are peeling off” he said quietly. “Suddenly, Valerie only wants to speak to you after hiding the fact that she can speak, and after our father abducted you both. You say you don't know anything, are you lying, Carys?”

The intensity in his stare was suffocating. Carys forced herself to hold his gaze, trembling just enough to seem overwhelmed, not guilty.

“Leon,” she whispered, walking a neutral line “She had no idea what was happening, and when I came to wherever your father took us, she didn't understand what was happening. She was the only one I knew, maybe she knows I'm... safe."

He didn’t blink. The silence stretched like wire pulled too tight. Finally, he turned back to Valerie. “That’s not how this works,” he said. “You talk to me. I’m your brother.”

Valerie’s chin dipped—so subtle it could’ve been a flinch. She pushed the pad toward him again. Another line: Please. Carys. Her handwriting shook.

Leon exhaled through his nose, the sound dangerously controlled. He wasn’t angry at Valerie. No. The anger was directed inward—and outward. At himself. At Carys. At the entire situation.

He stepped away from them both, jaw flexing, hand pushing through his hair. A gesture Carys had seen twice before—once when he had sprinted towards them with a gun and afterwards had seen Drew's dead body, and the other the day they had a disagreement about Valerie, if Ivon hadn't been there, Carys was certain Leon would have picked her apart.

He was unraveling. Not fully. Just enough.

He faced Carys again. “Fine,” he said. “If she wants to talk to you, she can talk to you.”

Carys blinked, surprised he agreed so easily.

But then he added, in a low, razor-sharp tone: “But you will repeat every single word she says. You will not twist it. You will not soften it. You will not omit anything.” He stepped closer until she felt the heat of him, until the air thinned. “If you lie to me—so help me God, Carys. You're on your last leg, help yourself”

Carys nodded rapidly. “I understand.”

Leon studied her again, long enough to make her skin prickle.

Then he turned to Valerie. “I’ll be right outside the door.”

Valerie didn’t look up.

Leon walked out, closing the door behind him. The sound echoed like a lock clicking shut.

—

The moment he was gone, Valerie launched herself off the sofa and into Carys’s arms, nearly knocking her backwards.

Carys froze, startled by the ferocity of the hug. Valerie was trembling—fragile, soft gasps escaping her as if she’d been holding them in for years. Carys wrapped her arms around her, steady, gentle.

“I’m sorry,” Valerie blurted, her voice small and cracked. “I’m so, so sorry I lied!”

Carys held her tighter. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I promise you’re safe.”

Valerie shook her head violently against her shoulder. “No! I lied because he asked me to! I lied because I didn’t want anyone to fight anymore!”

Carys’s breath caught. “Who asked you?” Carys asked softly, though she already knew.

Valerie pulled back, eyes wide and earnest. “Dad.”

The word felt like a stone thrown into deep water.

Carys kept her voice steady. “Valerie… your father hasn’t been here for years.”

Valerie shook her head again, more desperately. “No, no, he has. He comes all the time. He plays with me. He brings candy. He asks about my brothers. He told me it’s our little secret. He said one day he’ll bring us all together again.”

Carys swallowed hard. “Valerie… when did this start?”

Valerie’s eyes softened in a dreamy, distant way. “Since I can remember. When I was small. He’d come when Ivon and Leon were resting or not home. He told me he'd talk to them when I turn ten and that he would take me to mom.”

Carys’s chest constricted. “Valerie,” she whispered gently, “do you know where your mom is?”

“Yes.” Valerie beamed, proud. “Dad says she’s getting better! He said she needed time away because the house was too loud. But once he fixes everything, she’ll come home and we’ll all be happy again.”

Carys’s throat constricted painfully. She couldn’t correct her. She couldn’t crush her. That wasn’t her job. But God, it hurt to see the layers of manipulation.

“Valerie,” she said quietly, “what did he ask you to lie about?”

Valerie twisted her fingers. “He wanted to know what Ivon and Leon were doing all the time. So he asked me to show him where the camera room was. And the hidden door under the stairs- the one that leads to every corner in the house. I hide there sometimes. And the hall where Leon keeps the locked things. And the place Ivon goes to drink.”

Carys felt her blood run cold. “You—showed him those places?”

Valerie nodded earnestly. “He said it would help. He said everyone is confused because they don’t understand him. He said if he watches long enough, he’ll know how to bring us all back together.”

Carys closed her eyes briefly. Leon. Ivon. They were being monitored from inside their own home. Cameras. Microphones. All installed with the help of the girl they adored. Manipulated by the man they despised.

“Valerie,” Carys whispered, “why didn’t you tell your brothers?”

Valerie looked down. “Because Dad said they’d get mad. He said they don’t love him anymore because they don’t see how good he is. He said if they just listen to him, everything will be fine.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “He said Mom will come back.”

Carys hugged her again, swallowing the burn behind her eyes. “Val,” she whispered, “your mother… she isn’t coming back.”

Valerie stiffened.

Carys corrected quickly, “I mean—she isn’t coming back right now. This is something your brothers want to talk to you about. They love you, and they don’t want anyone lying to you.”

Valerie sniffed, clinging to her shirt. “Do you think Dad lied to me?”

Carys answered carefully. “I think he told you what he needed you to believe.”

Valerie’s breath hitched.

Before Carys could say more, the door opened quietly.

Leon stood there. His expression wasn’t angry. It was worse. It was broken. He had heard enough to shatter him.

Valerie looked up at him, face streaked with tears. “Leon…?” she whispered.

Leon didn’t move for a long, torturous moment. Then he crouched and opened his arms. Valerie ran into them, sobbing.

Leon held her, eyes over her shoulder—locked on Carys. Not accusing. Not attacking. Terrifyingly calm. A man confirming the truth he’d always feared.

A man realizing the enemy had been inside his home for years. A man who now understood Carys had information he couldn’t afford to ignore. And the thought hit Carys like a blow: Leon wouldn’t let her walk away now.