“No one would believe you. You have no proof.” Aunt Daisy practically hisses, her words sharp and venomous. Lukas barely reacts. He shrugs, unbothered, as if she’d just informed him it might rain tomorrow.
“I don’t need proof.” He says, voice smooth and infuriatingly calm.
“I’m a mind reader.” He reminds her. His tone doesn’t rise. He doesn’t puff himself up. He just is. Still. Unshaken. Like he’s playing a game where he already knows the outcome and isn’t all that invested anyway.
“Sure, not everyone will believe me.” He continues, casually brushing a bit of lint off his sleeve.
“But enough people will. That’s all it takes. Just a few. Then there are whispers. Rumours. Speculation.” He tilts his head slightly, his blue eyes steady on her.
“Stories spread fast. And they grow. They get twisted. Exaggerated. Eventually, the details won’t even matter. The damage will be done. Your reputation? Your precious status? Gone. Just like that. You might as well be dirt.” His voice stays low, polite, almost conversational, but the promise underneath is cold. The threat doesn’t need volume to be effective. It’s the certainty in his tone that makes it terrifying. Aunt Daisy looks stunned. Momentarily speechless, which is impressive for a woman who’s never met a silence she couldn’t fill. She rises sharply to her feet and begins marching toward us, her eyes blazing like she thinks sheer indignation will be enough to put the world back in order. And then Roxy moves. She jumps up in perfect sync, tail wagging, posture alert, placing herself squarely in Daisy’s path. Not growling. Not threatening. Just there. Daisy falters, nearly stumbling over her own feet as she jerks back, clearly horrified at the idea of brushing against a DOG. The very thought of fur on her perfectly tidy clothes is enough to send her reeling. She retreats a few steps and ends up frozen just short of the hallway entrance, seething. She shoots daggers at Lukas.
“So?” she spits, trying to regain control. If she’s trying to act like his threat doesn’t bother her, she’s not doing a very good job of it.
“So?” Lukas repeats, as if he’s just waiting for her to catch up. His voice remains gentle, almost kind, but it only makes the moment feel more harsh.
“Are you going to talk to us now?” He asks. Her expression darkens.
“I will NEVER tell you ANYTHING.” She snaps.
“This is NONE of your business. And if you keep pushing…” She narrows her eyes, voice dropping into a threat
“I WILL retaliate.” She says menacingly. I open my mouth, ready to argue, to throw everything I’ve got at her. But I don’t get a chance.
A quiet throat clear interrupts the rising tension. We all turn. Uncle Lance is standing in the hallway, halfway in shadow, hands braced awkwardly on his hips. His face is drawn. Pale. But his eyes, they’re tired. Not the kind of tired that sleep can fix either. This is the kind of exhaustion that comes from years of watching someone you love become a stranger. Years of never speaking up, never getting what you want and never getting to be yourself.
“You don’t have to say anything.” Uncle Lance says softly, looking at Aunt Daisy.
“Because I will.” He finishes. Her head snaps toward him like she’s been struck.
“You. Wouldn’t. Dare.” The words are low, vicious, laced with disbelief and betrayal. She takes a step toward him like she might actually hex him where he stands. I don’t see how she can be so surprised. She’s treated him terribly for as long as I can remember. Uncle Lance visibly flinches. His body tenses like he’s waiting for something terrible to happen, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t back down.
“Yes. I would.” He says. His voice trembles at first, but as he speaks, it gains strength, like years of bottled up feelings are finally clawing their way up to the surface.
“I’m done, Daisy. Done with the secrets. Done with the lies. Done with you.” He says firmly. Aunt Daisy’s jaw falls open, utterly stunned. For the first time in, maybe ever, she doesn’t seem to know what to say. She looks at him like he’s just betrayed the natural order of the universe. And honestly? I get it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Uncle Lance talk back to ANYONE. He’s always been the quiet one. The peacekeeper. The guy who keeps his head down and smooths things over. But not now. Now he’s standing there, hands clenched into fists at his sides. He’s shaking and clearly terrified, but he is holding his ground. He’s scared out of his mind. But he’s still choosing this moment to finally stand up to her. Part of me wants to break out in applause, to cheer for him. Another part just aches for what it’s taken to bring him to this breaking point. And the wildest thing? Aunt Daisy folds. It’s like her entire personality gets shrunk down and her overwhelming presence dims down. She even looks smaller, thinner. Like for the first time, she’s realising that the world won’t bend just because she wants it to.
Aunt Daisy doesn’t respond. Because she can’t. There’s nothing left for her to say, and nowhere to go from here. I doubt it ever occurred to her that Uncle Lance, quiet, accommodating, peacekeeping Uncle Lance, would ever betray her confidence. The idea of him turning her in, siding with me, would have seemed utterly ludicrous to her. I can hardly believe it myself. And yet, here we are. Uncle Lance still looks terrified. His hands tremble faintly at his sides, like even now, after everything, he’s waiting for her to lash out. To yell. To curse. To do SOMETHING. But she doesn’t. She just stares at him, silent and hollow eyed, as if watching the foundation of her world crumble beneath her. Wait. What the hell am I doing still sitting here? I launch to my feet, the couch forgotten, and rush to his side. Lukas is right behind me, moving without hesitation, and Roxy trots after us eagerly, tail wagging like she thinks we’re all heading out for a casual adventure and not walking away from a lifetime of controlled silence. Uncle Lance clears his throat again. It’s shaky and awkward, and he won’t quite meet my eyes.
“If you don’t mind…” He starts, voice hoarse.
“I could use a ride. To a hotel or something. Just… Somewhere.” He sounds so worn down. Lukas nods instantly, voice steady and sure.
“Of course. We can leave now, if you’d like.” He offers. Uncle Lance hesitates.
“If you’re willing to wait a moment…” Lance’s voice drops to something softer. Sadder.
“I might pack a bag. I… I don’t think I’ll be coming back.” He admits. Then he sighs quietly, like the weight of that truth is just now sinking in. Behind us, Aunt Daisy hasn’t moved. She’s still frozen in place, staring. Like if she just wills hard enough, she can reverse the moment. Pretend it never happened. But it did, and now she has to live with it. The air in the room is stiff with tension, thick and unmoving. No one’s saying anything. No one knows what to do. Fine. If no one else is going to take charge, I will.
“Packing a bag is a great idea.” I say gently, turning towards Uncle Lance. I reach for his hand and squeeze. He doesn’t hesitate. Just lets me tug him forward as I lead him out of the room and down the hall toward the master bedroom. Lukas falls in behind us like a silent shadow, ever steady. Roxy brings up the rear, claws ticking lightly on the hardwood floor. We don’t look back.
The bedroom is neat, pristine like every other room in the house. But Lukas and I make quick work of disrupting the perfection. We help Uncle Lance toss his clothes into two bags, adding a few books, a photo frame from the nightstand, a favourite jacket from the closet. For someone who’s lived here for more than two decades, he doesn’t have all that much stuff. Nothing personal, nothing permanent. Like he was never meant to take up space. That fact alone is enough to make my chest ache as I think about my own cluttered home. It only takes a few minutes for us to finish packing up his entire life. When we’re done, we head straight for the front door. No lingering. No looking around. No long, drawn out goodbyes. Uncle Lance doesn’t pause to check on Aunt Daisy. He doesn’t say a word. He just hoists the bags onto his shoulder, his back straighter than I’ve seen it in years. And then, he walks out. Just like that.