That night, Val picked up her phone and dialed Lucien. I watched her from the bed, noting the careful way she held herself even in private—the balance of control and worry in her posture.
"Lucien," she said firmly, but her voice carried that soft undertone I knew meant she was concerned.
"Kai already told you, didn't he?" Lucien's voice was tense, hesitant.
Val's eyes narrowed slightly, but her tone stayed even. "Yes… but I need to hear it from you. I need to know you're okay. And I need to know how far Dad pushed you to do something this… reckless."
There was a pause on the line. I could see her waiting, breathing measured, letting him take the time to answer.
Lucien sighed. "I… I messed up, Cel. I didn't think he'd—" He hesitated, and I knew exactly what he meant.
Val's voice cut through softly but firmly. "Tomorrow morning. I'll come to your office at eight. We go to Dad together, figure this out before it gets worse."
"So soon? I mean…" Lucien's hesitation betrayed him.
