Chapter Eight
Thomas
From the second gate, Ibarra led my brothers and their families to the Longhouse.
It seemed to take far longer than it should have.
Not because Ibarra was taking her time, but because of what waited at the finish line.
For me, it was the full focus of my family’s anger, and their conviction that I’d dealt in duplicity.
For them, it was getting past Liis and me, the gatekeepers of someone they’d grieved so hard it had changed the trajectory of their lives.
Ibarra kept a controlled pace, moving as someone who understood the language of men who’d survived too much and trusted too little.
Over a dozen pairs of shoes crunching against gravel couldn’t rival the sound of my thoughts.
I stood in a space where consequences gathered with each step Ibarra took, and I knew exactly which ones were coming for me.
The soldiers and my family reached the clearing in front of the Longhouse.
No one spoke. Falyn’s eyes were swollen, Taylor’s were empty.
Trenton’s jaw flexed on a loop. Camille lightly bounced their son as he slept in her arms, and as well as I thought I knew her, I couldn’t read her any better than I could Abby’s stoic expression.
The children compared their parents’ expressions against ours.
Hollis leaned into Taylor, Hadley into Falyn.
Even the twins, usually restless, stood rigid behind Travis with an awareness that didn’t belong to children.
Another consequence of my choices, written plainly in the confusion on their faces, something I’d be apologizing for long after they understood it.
Ibarra shot me a look.
I stepped forward, voice deceptively steady.
“This is obviously a highly intense, emotional moment, but understand this first,” I let the pause do the work, “Marcel made the terms clear. No outbursts. No violence. You must stay in control.” My gaze held, unblinking.
“This company won’t tolerate disruption.
I’ll repeat this once more. There will be zero tolerance, and that isn’t a warning.
It’s a fact. Anyone who violates the General’s terms will be removed from the premises. There will be no second chances.”
“How convenient for you,” Trenton muttered.
“Is… she here?” Falyn asked, her voice small.
“Olive is here,” I responded.
A collective combination of gasps and sighs spread through the group.
“If you’re unable to keep your composure, Ibarra will end the meeting, and you’ll be on your way back to the airport.”
Taylor’s stare clicked onto me. He didn’t blink, instead a faint whisper of disbelief in his expression, then something like resentment.
I continued. “You will keep your emotions in check. You will not raise your voice. You will not approach Olive until she indicates she’s ready. Today is a reunion; not an interrogation, not an opportunity for retribution.”
Trenton opened his mouth again but thought better of it. He rolled his shoulders back as if holding himself in check, forcing down whatever he wanted to say with a hard swallow.
I felt Liis prepare to speak, her weight shifting. She stepped into the moment the way she always did—confident and precise.
“The shooting at Jim’s set everything in motion,” she said, calm.
“From that point on, Thomas and I made decisions that, granted, weren’t necessarily ours to make, within a quickly narrowing window.
” She paused. “Once Olive was stable, we moved her to a secure location before the Carlisis and the Yakuza could regroup. From a logistical standpoint, removing Olive without anyone’s knowledge was the safest option.
Trying to disappear her entire immediate family would have meant impossible choices—who goes, who stays, who has to lie to whom. ”
I watched my brothers as she spoke. Every word landed. Every one of them understood the math, even if they hated the answer.
“We knew the children were the unpredictable variable,” Liis continued, stopping to offer an apologetic smile to each of them so they didn’t feel accused.
“What might happen if one of them learned Olive was alive. What happened if just one person slipped. One mistake, even a small one, is all it would’ve taken.
” She took a breath, but her voice didn’t waver.
“We know there’s grief here. Resentment.
A deep sense of betrayal. And it’s valid.
But tonight isn’t about that. It’s not about your feelings.
” Her gaze held steady. “Tonight is about Olive, and your chance to see her again. But this opportunity is a very fragile one. Please don’t do anything that takes it away from you.
She’s been waiting for this for a long time, and if anyone loses control—even for a moment—Marcel’s decision will be out of our hands. ”
Falyn’s chin trembled. She didn’t speak.
I cleared my throat. “For two and a half years, this has been the only solution that’s kept her alive.
Complete separation from almost everyone she loves.
A new name, a new past. No slip-ups. No digital trail.
No visits. No phone calls. As you can see, the moment that changed, we had to get her somewhere impenetrable.
Whatever you might think of Liis and me and our decision to let you grieve Olive’s loss, to feel unimaginable pain, to miss her every day until this moment, it was necessary. ”
Trenton’s hands balled into fists until Camille reached up to gently grip his upper arm.
Liis stepped up beside me, shoulders squared. “We didn’t tell you Olive survived because we couldn’t. Shane and Liza still don’t know for sure… and they won’t. At least, not yet. This is non-negotiable.”
No one argued. No one agreed.
“We weighed every variable,” I began, but Trenton groaned.
“We get it.”
“Trent, shut up,” Travis snapped back.
I continued. “We weighed our grief. Our guilt. The danger. There was no version of this where we saved her and kept the family intact. We had to choose.” My hands curled at my sides.
I made myself relax them. “What we did, however hurtful, we did because we knew in the end, if you could have set your emotions aside, you would’ve made the same choice. ”
“That’s pretty fucking bold of you, Tommy,” Trenton said, his voice strained.
Camille tugged on his arm.
Taylor’s voice dropped into the conversation as he spoke, his voice strained. “We understand your perspective. It’s time Falyn reunites with her daughter.”
Silence again. This time with sharp edges.
It was Falyn who finally broke through the quiet, her voice a wire on the verge of snapping.
“Please, Thomas. Can I see her?”
“Olive is inside,” Liis said. “She’s nervous. She’s excited. It’s important we make this experience as positive as we can.” She kept her tone controlled, firm, but somehow still empathetic. “What she needs now is our focus… on her, not on relitigating decisions already made.”
The crunch of gravel cut through the quiet behind my family, close enough to pull every head around.
“Good evening, Maddoxes,” Naomi said. Her tone was controlled, slightly formal, but not stiff.
She came into view already set, tan T-shirt, desert camo cargo pants, boots laced tight. Her hair was pulled back into a low, unforgiving bun. She didn’t need to say anything else. Everyone there knew why she’d stepped in.
Ibarra straightened and snapped a quick salute. Naomi gave a small nod. “At ease.”
My brothers offered brief nods of their own, acknowledgments more than greetings, then turned back to me, tension settling in again as they waited to be let in to see the one person they’d dropped everything to see.
Unaware that Liis and I knew our family well enough to guide them through it step by step, to give them time, explanations to consider, and a chance to hear the rules again before seeing Olive, Ibarra opened the Longhouse door without waiting for permission, likely to keep Naomi on schedule.
The hinges groaned.
I closed my eyes. Admittedly, I’d been stalling the inevitable. But we’d needed that minute. Without it, they’d react first and think later.
“I’ll bring up the rear,” Liis said in my ear, gesturing for me to lead the family inside.
Shoes shuffled across the concrete floor, and we gathered in the center of the room with the exception of Naomi standing at the entrance to supervise. My eyes settled on the back room, and I called out.
“Olive? Everyone’s here.”
No movement. No noise.
Liis shot me a quick look, then walked toward the back. She stepped through the doorway and turned to the right, pausing where only her back and ponytail were visible. She was having a conversation, nodded, then turned to meet my eyes.
With just one look from my wife, we had an entire conversation.
Olive was anxious. Maybe bringing everyone in at once was the wrong call.
She wanted to see her family more than anything, but she had always been uniquely perceptive, and she was likely anticipating the fallout.
Emotions among my brothers were already volatile, her presence would only escalate them and any aggression would land squarely on Liis and me.
I knew from body language alone Liis was reassuring Olive that we’d instructed them to keep their composure, that it would be a low-conflict event and not the savage brawl anyone who knew the Maddoxes had every reason to expect.
“Kids,” Abby said, “remember what we talked about?”
“Yes,” they answered in whispers.
Liis turned toward us, unhurried, then stepped out of the doorway and to the side. Olive came through, Bodhi right behind her with Stella tucked against his chest.
The family inhaled as one—a sound I felt in my bones.
Stella was still clinging to her dolls and unaware, thumb in her mouth, insulated from the moment entirely. Bodhi moved like a man expecting impact, his eyes scanning my brothers, his shoulders tight, each step deliberately slow, as if one sudden move could set everything off.