"Ms. Bell," he said. "I understand your suspicion."
"No," Lena said evenly. "You understand that I have it. That's not the same thing."
Annie looked up at her mother, then at Charles again. "If he adopts me, do I have to leave you?"
There it was. The real wound—the question beneath every other question. Charles did not answer right away, which at least told Lena he knew better than to deploy a quick lie.
"No," he said at last. "Not unless something legal, safe, and entirely agreed upon ever required a different arrangement. And nothing would happen without complete discussion."
"That sounds like lawyer talk," Lena said.
Victor opened his mouth, but Charles lifted a hand, stopping him instantly. "It is lawyer talk," Charles admitted. "Because reckless promises become dangerous if they stay reckless. I'm telling you there are lawful ways to protect Annie, support her training, and provide absolute financial security for both of you without taking her from you tonight, tomorrow, or ever."
Annie frowned. "So, not tonight?"
"No," Charles said gently. "Not tonight."
She thought about that. "But you still mean it?"
"Yes."
Lena watched him closely. His face remained completely calm, but calm was not innocence; calm could be control, and calm could be practiced. Still, she had expected evasion by now—some graceful retreat, some polished explanation of how tonight had been purely symbolic. He had not taken it.
"Why?" she asked simply.
Charles looked at Annie before answering. "Because she has a gift."