Chapter 307: Chapter 307: I think I figured that out

They looked at each other across the desk.

Twenty years of being brothers. Of knowing each other so well that most conversations happened in the space between words.

"What do you think comes next," Damian said. "For Callum."

"I think he made a terrible choice for the right reason," Damon said. "And I think he’s been paying for it every day since." He paused. "I think his daughter hasn’t seen him properly in months and she doesn’t understand why." He looked at Damian. "I don’t think that serves anyone."

Damian was quiet.

"He gave us everything," Damon said. "Every contact. Every piece of information he passed. He cooperated fully. He hasn’t tried to contact anyone outside the estate." He paused. "What are we holding him for at this point."

"Accountability," Damian said.

"He’s accounted," Damon said. "What else."

Damian looked at the desk.

At the surface of it. The wood. The drawer with the false panel that no longer held anything.

"He betrayed the pack," he said.

"He did," Damon said. "And he was coerced into it by someone who threatened to harm his daughter." He held Damian’s gaze. "We built a reform today that makes that kind of coercion impossible going forward. We did that because we understand how it works and why it’s wrong." He paused. "If we understand that why are we still punishing the man it happened to."

The study was very quiet.

Damian looked at his coffee.

At the window.

At his hands.

"What do you want to do," he said finally.

"I want to talk to him tonight," Damon said. "And I want to bring Rosie here this weekend. Let them see each other." He paused. "And then I want to figure out a path forward that isn’t indefinite restriction. Something with conditions. Something that holds him accountable without holding his daughter responsible."

Damian was quiet for a long time.

The longest silence.

Damon waited.

"Talk to him tonight," Damian said. "Bring her this weekend." He looked at Damon. "The path forward, we build that together. All of us. Including Callum."

Damon nodded.

Stood up.

Stopped at the door.

"Damian," he said.

Damian looked at him.

"You should have told me you were waiting for me," Damon said. "I would have come sooner."

Damian held his gaze.

"I know," he said. "I should have."

Damon nodded.

Went outside to find Callum.

He found him in the small room on the east wing that had become his quarters during the restriction.

Knocked.

Callum opened the door and looked at Damon with the expression he had been wearing since the east wing confrontation....not fear exactly. The specific look of someone waiting for consequences and not knowing what shape they would take.

"Can I come in," Damon said.

Callum stepped back.

Damon entered the room and sat down.

Callum sat across from him.

They looked at each other.

"How is she," Damon said.

Callum blinked.

"Rosie," Damon said. "How is she."

Something in Callum’s face broke open.

Not dramatically. Just the careful controlled expression he had been maintaining for months cracking slightly at the one question he hadn’t expected.

"I don’t know," he said. Quietly. "I haven’t been able to see her properly. My sister has her but...." He stopped. "She’s been asking why I’m not home."

"What does your sister tell her," Damon said.

"That I’m working," Callum said. "That it’s temporary." He looked at his hands. "She’s eight. She knows something is wrong."

Damon looked at him.

At the man who had been pack for twenty years and had made a terrible choice for the reason people made terrible choices, because someone found the thing they would do anything to protect and used it.

"She’s coming this weekend," Damon said.

Callum looked up.

"Here," Damon said. "To the estate. To see you." He held Callum’s gaze. "Damian agreed."

Callum stared at him.

"I haven’t told her..." He stopped. "She doesn’t know where I am or what..."

"You’ll tell her what you need to tell her," Damon said. "In whatever way makes sense for an eight year old." He paused. "But she’s going to see her father this weekend."

Callum looked at him.

His eyes were wet.

He blinked.

Didn’t say anything for a moment.

"Why are you doing this," he said finally.

Damon looked at him.

"Because she has a fox backpack," he said and smiled. "And she walks home on Thursdays with a family called the Hendrys. And none of what happened is her fault." He paused. "And because taking care of people is what I do. Even when it’s complicated."

Callum looked at the floor.

Breathed in slowly.

"Thank you," he said. Barely audible.

"Don’t thank me," Damon said. "Just.....be there for her this weekend. Properly." He stood up. "And then we figure out what comes next. Together."

He walked out of the room.

***

He found Eve in their room.

She was sitting up in bed reading something and she looked up when he came in.

He sat on the edge of the bed.

She waited for him to talk.

"She’s coming this weekend," he said.

Eve looked at him.

"Damian agreed," he said. "And Callum..." He stopped. "His eyes went wet when I told him."

Eve set down her reading.

Moved to sit beside him.

Put her head on his shoulder.

He leaned into it.

"That’s who you are," she said quietly. "In case you were still wondering."

He thought about it.

About the empty feeling he had been sitting with on the back step.

It wasn’t empty anymore.

It was full.

Different kind of full than crisis management. Quieter. Less urgent. But more real somehow. More permanent.

This was who he was.

Someone who takes care of others.

Someone who brought daughters to their fathers.

Someone who took care of people not because there was a threat but because that was simply what he did.

"Yeah," he said. "I think I figured that out."

She squeezed his arm.

He covered her hand with his and smiled.