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“You still wearing that man around your neck?” he said quietly.

I didn’t touch it. I didn’t defend it.

“He saved my life.”

Marcel shifted in the bed.

“He disrupted mine.”

I let that sit.

“You gave me away,” I said. “At seventeen.”

He frowned, but he didn’t look away.

“He abused me.”

He inhaled slowly through his nose. “You survived.”

“I didn’t survive because of you. I survived because of Ghost.”

That hit. I saw it.

“You ran to him,” Marcel said.

“I ran because you wouldn’t stop it.”

His eyes hardened a little. “You think I didn’t know what that marriage was?”

“Knowing and stopping are two different things.”

“You loved him and you weren’t supposed to,” Marcel said after a moment.

“I still do.”

There wasn’t anger in my voice. Just truth.

He swallowed. “He was reckless.”

“He was decisive. There’s a difference.”

I walked closer to the bed and sat down in the chair beside him again.

“I’m not here to fight about the past,” I said. “I’m here because what they did to Azaria feels too familiar.”

“She’s twenty eight, Vivi.”

“You don’t think fear feels the same at any age?”

“She’s protected.”

“So was I. On paper.”

Marcel looked at me carefully now.

“You think Ares will hurt her?”

“No,” I answered immediately. “That’s the only reason I’m not louder about this.”