ACE
Cruelty, when used properly, was a language.
It didn’t shout. It didn’t swing wildly. It spoke in measured sentences and controlled proximity, in corrections delivered calmly enough that the recipient questioned their own reaction before questioning me.
That was how order was restored.
Lily had unsettled the balance.
I knew it the moment I decided to sit at the breakfast table that morning. Not because I needed to. Not because it was efficient. But because the idea of her moving through my house without my oversight irritated me more than it should have.
Visibility was leverage.
She stiffened when she saw me. The reaction was immediate, instinctive. Good. Fear was a corrective force. It reminded people where they stood.
Still, I watched her more closely than necessary as she he
