Chapter 4: The Husband Arrives
He came through the front door forty minutes later, still in his work coat, his phone already in his hand.
Melisande's husband, Roderick, was a tall man with the kind of face that expected to be listened to.
He scanned the room — Carol Deane at the table, Mrs.
Hargrove beside her, Ivo on the sofa next to me — and his expression settled into something firm and controlled.
"What is going on here?" he said.
Not to the room.
To me.
"Mr.
Roderick," Carol Deane said, "I'm glad you're here.
Please sit down."
"I'd like to know who authorized this," he said.
"This is our home."
"You were notified by letter eleven days ago that a welfare review had been opened regarding your nephew, Ivo," Carol Deane said.
"Did you receive that letter?"
A pause.
Short, but there.
"Melisande handles the post," he said.
Carol Deane wrote something down.
She did not look up when she wrote it.
Melisande was seated at the far end of the table.
She had said very little since Carol Deane arrived.
Now she looked at her husband with an expression I couldn't fully read — part warning, part plea.
"Roderick," she said.
"They're making this into something it isn't."
"What exactly are they making it into?" he asked.
Mrs.
Hargrove spoke before Melisande could answer.
"Your nephew has been systematically pressured to surrender his academic awards to your daughter.
We have photographic evidence, a teacher's observation log spanning twelve months, and a recording made today in this room."
Roderick looked at Melisande.
She looked at the table.
"Mel," he said.
His voice had changed.
Lower.
Careful.
"Tell me this isn't true."
"It was just medals," she said.
"It wasn't hurting anyone.
Sophia needed the confidence boost.
Ivo has plenty of recognition at school.
I just thought—"
"You threatened him," I said.
"Ivo, tell him what she said."
Ivo looked at his uncle.
He swallowed once.
"She said if I told anyone, she'd make the school think I cheated.
That I'd get held back." He paused.
"I didn't want Mum to find out because I thought she'd be upset with me."
Roderick sat down slowly.
He set his phone face-down on the table.
For a moment nobody spoke.
Then he looked at Melisande with an expression I had not expected from him.
Not anger.
Exhaustion.
Deep, settled exhaustion, as if this were not the first time he had sat across from her in a room like this and found something he hadn't wanted to find.
"How long?" he said quietly.
"Roderick, don't—"
"How long, Melisande?"
She pressed her lips together.
"He has so many.
Sophia has none.
I just wanted her to feel—"
"You threatened a child." He said it flatly.
"Our nephew.
A boy."
"It wasn't a threat, it was—"
"Ivo." Roderick turned to him directly.
"I'm sorry.
I should have been paying closer attention.
That is on me."
Ivo blinked.
He hadn't expected that.
Neither had I.
Carol Deane let the moment settle before she spoke.
"Mr.
Roderick, I'll need a formal statement from you as well.
The review will continue regardless of today's outcome.
There are protocols we follow."
"I understand," he said.
"Whatever you need."
Melisande's head came up sharply.
"Roderick."
"No," he said.
He didn't raise his voice.
He didn't need to.
"No, Mel.
Not this time."
She stared at him.
Something moved across her face — the beginning of a different kind of calculation.
I watched her eyes go to the folder, to Carol Deane's notepad, to Ivo sitting quietly beside me.
And then she said something that made my stomach drop.
May you like
"Fine," she said softly.
"But before any of this goes further — there are things about Ivo's mother that perhaps Carol should know."
