Patrice arrived Monday morning with two associates.
No dramatic police raid.
No sensational confrontation.
Documents.
Devices.
Logs.
Contracts.
Truth often looked boring while being assembled.
They confirmed Marissa paid Michael Trent through a family lifestyle account.
Grant had authorized the account for household consulting, travel logistics, and security.
He never reviewed individual invoices.
Michael’s firm created a thirty-eight-page “family integration strategy.”
Patrice slid it across the conference table.
“Do you want to read this now?”
“Yes.”
The report described Ellie as “the primary resistance point to household identity consolidation.”
Grant stared.
“She’s a child.”
“Yes.”
Another section recommended “reducing environmental triggers connected to prior maternal identity.”
Photographs.
Clothing.
Anniversary rituals.
Anna’s birthday videos were listed.
Grant’s hand stopped.
“They knew about the videos.”
“Yes.”
“Who told them?”
Patrice did not need to answer.
Marissa.
The report suggested delaying access to certain videos “during periods of behavioral instability.”
Grant closed his eyes.
“She changed the password.”
“Looks that way.”
“Why?”
“Her lawyer says she believed repeated exposure interfered with grief recovery.”
“Was that based on a therapist?”
“No licensed therapist appears to have recommended it.”
“What is Trent?”
“Organizational psychologist.”
“For companies?”
“Mostly.”
Grant laughed.
“Of course.”
Another section outlined Brunswick Academy.
Not as punishment.
As “structured separation supporting attachment reset.”
Grant read that phrase aloud.
Patrice’s expression said enough.
“What does it mean?”
“In plain English?”
“Yes.”
“Send Ellie away temporarily, strengthen your marriage with Marissa, and reintroduce Ellie into a household with clearer authority.”
Grant pushed the report away.
“No.”
Patrice nodded.
“No.”
There was also the foundation.
Marissa had recommended moving the Holloway Children’s Foundation away from Anna-centered storytelling.
That alone was not sinister.
The board had discussed it too.
A foundation could not become a permanent memorial.
Anna herself would have hated that.
But Michael’s documents linked the rebrand directly to Marissa’s public role.
“Future-facing maternal figure.”
Grant stared.
Patrice waited.
He finally said, “They were going to make her the face.”
“Yes.”
“Using Ellie.”
“Yes.”
“And if Ellie refused?”
Patrice tapped the boarding-school section.
The answer sat there.
Grant stood.
“I need air.”
Outside the study, Ellie sat at the kitchen table drawing.
Grant stopped.
She looked up.
“Are you going to work?”
The question was ordinary.
The fear underneath was not.
“No.”
“When?”
“Later.”
She watched him.
Grant pulled out the chair beside her.
“Actually.”
He sat.
“Not today.”
“What about your company?”
“It has other adults.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Do they know?”
He smiled.