Gabriel had spent the night drawing, as far as Nathalie knew. He had not left the company's building, anyway: he would have needed to use his keycard, and she would have seen his comings and goings in the security log.
The dozens of new sketches she found when she walked into his office in the morning seemed to confirm that. He had spread pages of detailed, annotated drawings over his desk, pinned them to his whiteboard, prepared everything for Jagged Stone's visit, and all of that had been done by nine AM, if not earlier.
She had escorted Adrien to his photoshoot of the day before arriving, and had found her employer… dangerously bored. He had nothing to keep himself busy with. The designs he had been meant to finish in the afternoon were done, and his entire schedule was planned around the Jagged Stone contract. Now, it was not the best of days for him to be left without distractions. He had been meant to leave for South America at ten, for that trip he had pushed back to late September.
He had not been fidgeting, not exactly, but he had been pacing.
Nathalie, who was not one to waste a good opportunity, had buried him in documents to review and sign. There was never a shortage of those. As a matter of fact, Gabriel had been surprised by the amount of documents she had brought him.
"I don't recall ever getting so many in a day", he had told her. "Have you been forging my signature, up to this point?"
"No, sir."
He had given her a slightly suspicious, slightly quizzical look. She had not even blinked. Sometimes, she felt crippling anxiety at the idea of her misdeeds being discovered. She didn't count "getting things done" as a misdeed, however, no matter how illegal her methods.
She had left him to his paperwork and spent the rest of the morning playing minesweeper.
She returned to his office during lunch, with the sandwich and espresso he had asked for. He was standing at the window, looking down into the street, and did not look pleased.
"Nathalie. My son seems to be sharing his lunch with that deadbeat rapper boy. Could you please join them and get that young man to leave?"
She joined him at the window. Just as he had said, Adrien was having lunch, not just with that 'Nino' classmate, but with Marinette Dupain-Cheng and that teenage girl who seemed grafted to her hip.
"Adrien is too kind for his own good", Gabriel commented. "He tries to see the good in everyone, but he's unable to draw the line. I wish he could realize there are people out there who can only get him in trouble, before he has to learn that lesson the hard way."
"Is that a lesson you had to learn yourself?"
"By proxy. I hardly surrounded myself with disreputable people, but Alice was… Let's just say that I had to dispatch a lawyer on several occasions."
Nathalie nodded.
Alice had been known to 'like everyone '. Her best friend had been Anne-Laure Lenoir, a spoiled rich girl slash juvenile delinquent who had managed to seduce André Bourgeois, then divorced him and vanished to the Caribbean, abandoning her entire life and her young daughter. Nathalie could imagine the brand of trouble attached to a friendship with that kind of person.
"I'll go right now", she said, walking out of the office.
When she joined the children on the street, she found them spread on public benches with sandwiches, bottles of soda and three bags of candy. Adrien was laughing. It was not a noise Nathalie heard often, let alone those last few weeks, and she felt a pang of something. She ignored it.
The teenagers spotted her and turned to her. 'Nino', who immediately crossed his arms and leaned back on the bench, was glowering. Miss Dupain-Cheng was tense, but hid her disapproval better, though she was still pursing her lips. The second girl just looked concerned. Adrien blanched and lowered his eyes.
"Adrien. A word, if you please", Nathalie said.
The boy did not protest. He handed his bag of candy to his best friend, who briefly squeezed his wrist. Adrien acknowledged the effort with the slightest nod, then followed Nathalie into the building without as much as a sigh.
"You know your father does not approve of that boy", she told him once away from prying ears.
Adrien agreed, resigned. He was biting the inside of his cheeks.
"You are going to tell my father, aren't you?" he asked.
"I'm afraid it's a bit late for that. He spotted you with your friends."
The boy looked up, startled.
"What do you mean, spotted me? I thought his flight was this morning."
Nathalie had to try hard not to gape. Gabriel had not told Adrien his flight had been postponed. Neither had he told her to warn his son. Maybe he had expected her to do it. Had she been supposed to guess ? It was like the birthday thing. It looked like she was expected to assume Gabriel's parenting duties without ever being given clear instructions.
It inevitably led to situations where the boy was hurt, and where one couldn't be sure where to lay the blame. Nathalie, who disliked feeling guilty, especially when a problem was not her fault, didn't take kindly to those situations.
Being a terrible person born literally heartless, she had little compassion to spare. In cases like those, she felt sorry for herself . All concern for Adrien came as an afterthought. She was surprised to even feel some, having spent her life caring about no one at all. But the child had his ways.
"His trip was pushed back to the end of September", she informed him, knowing how important the investigation about Alice's disappearance was to him, even when it was clear everyone was just playing pretend. "Due to the Jagged Stone contract."
"I… I see", Adrien replied, eyes wet and unblinking. "That… That makes sense."
There was a lull in the conversation.
"They came to visit miss Dupain-Cheng, didn't they?" Nathalie asked. "Your two friends?"
The boy hesitated. He wouldn't have lied, not to her face, not about disobeying his father.
"Yes. She has lunch with them every other day. Alya is her best friend, and Nino is… I mean, she asked me if I wanted to join in. I should have said no, I'm sorry."
"I'll tell your father it was not your idea", she announced. "You're free to go."
He didn't thank her, didn't comment, didn't even nod. He just left, clearly wanting to put as much distance between them as possible.
She went back to Gabriel's office. He was correcting his sketches, standing in front of the whiteboard with a pencil in his hand, and leaning closer to each pinned drawing to add details and annotations where needed.
"How did it go?" he asked, his eyes not leaving the whiteboard. "Was Adrien angry?"
"He had merely joined miss Dupain-Cheng on her lunch with her friends, sir. He apologized for doing so."
Gabriel paused and frowned, but still didn't look at Nathalie. She waited a few seconds, waiting to see if he would engage in conversation of his own free will. When he failed to do so, she braced herself.
"He was not aware your trip had been postponed, sir."
"What? Didn't you tell him?"
"You didn't ask me to. I assumed you had, sir. I'm very sorry."
Not.
Gabriel breathed in, containing himself, but all but slamming his pencil down on the closest table.
"I'll talk to him."
Nathalie hesitated. She had no idea what their dynamics were supposed to be, and had no doubt he would retreat behind his employer persona if she dared to question his personal choices. The moments where he opened up were few and far between, and he picked when and how they happened.
"Have you called your wife's friend, sir?" she asked him.
Gabriel's spine straightened.
"I don't see how that's your concern", he replied, voice clipped.
She looked away, mouth dry, heart racing. She said her goodbyes to her career (and how unfair was that, to have been allowed to ask that same question without risking backlash just a few days before, only to see him reestablish their boundaries at his convenience?).
Then again, did she even like her job?
She had stopped at nothing, short of murder, to get to where she was. "Where she was", however, had nothing to do with what she had been aiming for. Once upon a time, she had been ambitious. She had chosen a field that made excellent use of her abilities (a knack for accounting, an excellent spelling, a good phone voice and a passion for minesweeper). She had selected a young company where her lack of experience would not be a problem, cheated her way into a job, and clung to it as Gabriel raised to fame and brought in millions. The ride had been relatively smooth, with a great paycheck and yearly raises. As much as she had complained about it, she had loved her job. She liked things orderly and, for years, she had gone home with the satisfaction of having tamed chaos and cut it into tiny pieces that fit into a spreadsheet or a calendar. Mister Agreste had been the perfect boss. You could never have guessed he was an artist. He was more rigid than she was, he loved order just as much as she did, and he was always content to let her do her job as long as the results were to his liking. He didn't question her methods. It had all changed after his wife's death.
Her duties had become… frustrating.
There was a lot more 'Adrien' in the equation.
Now, there was a lot more 'Gabriel', and a lot more uncertainty.
And she had gotten 'involved' so she had to get involved . No one else would talk to the man.
"Call", she insisted. "Call before you talk to Adrien, and call now . You are denying your son closure."
Because you are afraid to get it , she didn't add.
Gabriel didn't answer. He didn't fire her outright, but it looked like he was considering it. He didn't get to think about it for long, however. His pocket watch's alarm started ringing. They both jumped in surprise. The sound - the horrible metallic rattling of an antique - was startling enough in normal circumstances, and they were both taunt as bowstrings.
He got the pocket watch out of his jacket and pressed the latch, stopping the alarm. There was a pink glow when the cover opened, and Gabriel snapped it shut after checking the time.
"I need a few hours", he announced. "If I'm not back in three, have Stéphanie show the sketches to Jagged Stone, and make sure he leaves with copies."
"I will, sir", Nathalie replied as he left the room.
###
Adrien had given himself thirty minutes alone to recover from the news delivered by Nathalie. Well, 'alone'. Plagg had been there, and had made that fake purring sound.
The teenager had tried to ask the Kwami what he thought his father thought, but the answers he had gotten were "I don't know", "I couldn't tell" and "I can't say". Plagg had looked a little subdued. He was concerned. His ears were drooping.
That was comforting.
Adrien had employed his time avoiding to think about his mother, and of how he had yet another proof that Gabriel had given up on her.
After that hour, he made his way to the workshop to talk to Marinette, knowing she was most likely worried about him, seeing how Nathalie had dragged him away from his friends earlier. He found his classmate talking to one of the design assistants, next to a board covered in his father's latest batch of sketches. They were discussing how Marinette would get to help with the confection of the test garments (especially the hats, since she had experience with that). The hat she had created for his photoshoot was mentioned, and he felt a sneeze coming on just at the memory. The design assistant believed Marinette would get to embroider one of the final pieces - the least important hat of the less noticeable dancer, but still - if her work on the test headgear was satisfactory.
Marinette, overjoyed by the news, was… wiggling… her backside. It was very distracting when you happened to be behind her. Cute. But distracting. Adrien had given entirely too much thought to the possibility that Marinette might have 'liked', 'liked' him. It meant he had given entirely too much thought to his every interaction with Marinette, as well as to her interactions with everyone else (as they were more informative about her personality).
It had not revealed to him whether she liked him or not (he had planned to ask Nino), but he had come to the conclusion that she was cute. Smart, astute, confident (when talking to anyone but him, and twice as confident when facing Chloé), and cute.
Adrien had never in his life seen her do that wiggling thing, but it was definitely adorable.
He caught himself smiling.
He waited for the design assistant to leave, let his friend enjoy her joy for a moment more, then joined her and braced for the impeding squeak.
"Hey, Marinette", he said.
She squeaked.
Well. His time spent studying his every memory of her had given him impeccable insight into her reactions. That was something .
"A-Adrien", she replied, her expression changing from panic to concern. "Did you get into trouble? We were so worried."
He smiled, shaking his head.
"No, I didn't. Don't worry. Nathalie just wanted to talk about my schedule."
Marinette studied his face, frowning.
"Are you alright?" she asked, her tone making it clear that she knew he was not.
He knew she was sharp. He did. He had seen her outsmart Chloé at every turn, solve everyone's problem as a class president, face the Evillustrator without giving Chat Noir's strategy away. He had not expect her to turn her full focus to him, however.
"I… Yes", he lied.
She looked even more concerned at that.
"Are you sure?" she insisted.
He grinned.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine", he replied, sounding as genuine as he could. He turned to the pinboard. "So, you really are a fan of my father."
Marinette turned to it too, but she was still assessing him out of the corner of her eye. She considered her answer.
"I really love his work", she enthusiastically replied, with a smile in her voice.
It sounded fake, and Adrien took a look at her face. The smile did not reach her eyes, though it was plastered on her lips. She caught him staring.
"You know", she told him, turning to him. "If you ever need to talk, I'm here. I'm here, and I'll listen, and I will smuggle you to Nino if you'd prefer to talk to him . But… If you have something on your mind, we're here. You have us. We'll help."
He swallowed.
"Thank you", he said, trying to smile but feeling his eyes water.
He looked away so she wouldn't see that. His eyes focused on a computer screen at the other end of the workshop. Much to his surprise, it was not displaying patterns and reference, but a live feed of the news. A journalist was standing on the Pont des Arts, looking worried. Adrien could not hear him, but he could see his lips were blue. The camera turned to reveal what was going on.
A flying yeti was attacking the boats on a frozen Seine.
Marinette started fidgeting.
Adrien frowned, wondering how to run off without being too blatant. Chat Noir would be needed, but he couldn't just drop Marinette mid-conversation. The television had her full attention, however.
There was something else he had to do before leaving. Just in case. Just to check.
He took his phone out of his pocket, with a few words of apology, and called his father, just to make sure he was available, and not busy attacking Paris. He waited for Gabriel to pick up. And waited. And waited.
The call went to voicemail.
"I have to go", Adrien murmured. "I need to talk to my father."
###
Ladybug and Chat Noir saved the day.
Adrien went home.
He had called his father four times: twice before the attack, once during it (after a stealthy detransformation), and once right after. He had also called Nathalie, who was wondering where he had vanished to ("Home. I wasn't feeling well."), and she had told him that Gabriel was not at the office.
He stayed in his room all afternoon, staring at the ceiling, and contemplating the idea that the Hawk Moth theory was maybe not as far-fetched as he had initially thought.
At six, there was a knock on his window. He jumped out of bed, more than a little confused (as his room was not on the ground floor, which made 'knocking on his window' a complex endeavour, and because he did not get visitors to begin with). Ladybug was hanging upside down from the roof. She waved.
He ran to the window and opened it.
"Hi there", she said. "I was on my way home, I figured I'd drop by to say hello."
"Hi", he replied, flushing. "H-hello."
"How are you today?" she asked, trying to move up so he wouldn't get a plunging view of the contents of her nostrils.
"Do you want to come in?" Adrien suggested, moving out of the way and gesturing for her to enter his room.
She grabbed the edge of the window and rolled inside. He had seen her not two hours before, but his heart still danced in joy. It quieted quickly enough.
She's not coming to say hi , he told himself. She's still spying on your father.
Maybe it was time to help her with that.
"He's not here", Adrien announced, looking at her feet.
"I'm sorry?"
"My father. He's not here. He left the office a little before that Akuma attack. He's 'busy'. Not that Nathalie would tell me where he is or what he is doing."
"I'm sorry ?" she repeated.
Adrien stared at his hands, playing with his fingers. He tried not to feel like a traitor. His father absences were getting very suspicious, however. The impromptu R&D time that always lined up with Akuma attacks. His not having been in the Bubbler's bubbles, when Chat Noir had spotted Nathalie and their driver in them.
"I mean maybe you weren't wrong to think he's... I… I. I-I… I tried to call him. While that yeti monster was out there. I called him four times and he did not pick up, he did not try to call me back, and I'm not sure Nathalie knows where he is."
He did not look up.
She didn't answer. Not for a long time, anyway, enough for Adrien to swallow twice - painfully - and to consider calling his father one last time.
Then, she hugged him. It was a crushing hug, with most of her strength behind it, and it hurt a little more that he would have admitted. The was going to lose a few ribs. But it felt absurdly good.
"Okay", she whispered. Her voice grew stronger. "Okay. I'm going to look into it, and I'm going to find out, and I'm going to bring you proof he is not ."
And if he is?
She squeezed some more, then moved away, her hands still on his back.
"But you need to talk to me, Adrien. You've been telling me that everything was fine for days, and… This is not being fine. This is not fine . You can talk to me", she assured him. "I'm here to listen. You don't have to keep it all in."
Adrien pursed his lips.
"It's… It's about my mother", he explained. "My father, he… He thinks she's dead, and… I think she's not, and... "
The words poured out.
He kept talking until his father barged into the room.
###
It took five seconds at most, from the instant the door started opening, for Ladybug to jump out of the window and out of sight. But Adrien's father had spotted her, and he did not look pleased. Actually, he was furious.
Adrien, who was not used to seeing Gabriel lose his cool, let alone fly into a rage, stared in horror as he raced across the room to look outside, swore, and slammed the window shut.
"WHAT WAS SHE DOING HERE?"
"Father", the teenager said, fumbling for words. "She was just…"
He had no idea what to say. Gabriel was livid, and there was no way to mistake the look on his face for anything else than absolute loathing. It was so out of character that his son was stunned into silence. It had been years since he had last heard his father raise his voice. Gabriel did not believe in 'unnecessary displays of emotion'. 'Tantrums in public' served no other purpose than to convince people that you had been raised by wolves. It was not acceptable behavior. "Forget it reflecting poorly on the family name", he had once told Adrien. "It reflects poorly on you, both who you are and who you will become."
Now that he thought about it, when was the last time he had seen his father that furious? He remembered him screaming himself hoarse at a cop, but that had been right after his mother's disappearance. Adrien had only managed to catch glimpses of Gabriel, back then. Nathalie had kept them as far away as possible within the confines of the house. It had been a harsh time for everyone involved.
Before that, his parents argued a lot. Not that he was supposed to know about it: they had tried very hard to keep it from him, only ever fighting late at night and behind closed doors, when they thought he couldn't hear.
For the last four years, however? Gabriel had kept his feelings bottled in. Oh, he could get angry, but what he showed the world was mild irritation.
"WHAT DID SHE WANT?" he yelled.
He finally noticed the shock on his son's face and forced himself to calm down. He straightened up, and hid his balled fists behind his back.
"What did she want?" he asked again in a sharp, but lower voice.
"Someone reported a monster flying around", Adrien lied, just as Ladybug had the first time he had caught her spying on his home. "She wanted to know if I had seen it."
Gabriel's eyes traveled back and forth between the sofa and the window. He clearly didn't believe a single word Adrien had said.
"What were you talking about?" he asked. "I don't see how a possible monster attack warrants her staying for an extended chat. On the contrary."
"I… I wanted to thank her for saving my friends when they were attacked, Father. That's all."
That didn't seem to calm Gabriel down. His frown deepened. He clenched his jaw.
"Father, it's just Ladybug ", Adrien insisted.
He did not understand why her presence infuriated his father so. She was Ladybug . She saved people, she saved Paris, she fought evil. There was nothing wrong with that. Nothing to disapprove of. Unless a certain theory was true.
"I don't want you talking to her", Gabriel snapped. "I do not want you involved in her antics, do you hear me?"
" Antics ? She's saving Paris . She's protecting people, every day!"
"And I'm sure it's all very romantic to a boy your age, but it doesn't make her life any less insane and dangerous !"
Silence fell.
Adrien - Chat Noir - with his insane and dangerous life, had to refrain from yelling every single protest that came to his mind. Ladybug and Chat Noir were needed. Without their 'antics', the country would have remained frozen over after Stormy Weather's appearance. Every citizen of Paris would be trapped in a suit of armor, and serving the Dark Knight. There would be no adults, there would be no friendships, birds would… Birds would be at war with Dark Knight's army, actually.
Hawk Moth would have conquered the world.
The teenager clenched his fists and glared. Gabriel pointed at the window, with barely contained rage.
"Why do you think we live behind walls three times the size of a man, Adrien?" he asked. "What do you think the security cameras are for? I've done all I could to keep you safe , it's not to watch you befriend a suicidal vigilante!"
"She's a HERO!" Adrien yelled.
Gabriel retreated between every layer of ice he was able to summon. He clasped his hands behind his back. He squared his shoulders. When he spoke, there was not the slightest sign of emotion on his face.
"She is a child fighting monsters, Adrien. She will inevitably die doing so. Life is not a fairy tale. Now, if she's as lucky as her name suggests, she might be the only one falling when she fails to save the day, but I wouldn't bet on it."
"You don't sound too sad about that."
"I am sad. If she had any sense, she would give up on that life and focus on her future. As things are now, she doesn't have one."
"Maybe she thinks her life is worth protecting thousands."
"And maybe that's true, but I want you nowhere near someone who willingly takes on that responsibility, Adrien. If she comes to you again, politely send her on her way", Gabriel ordered, leaving the room.
He closed the door behind him, quietly.
###
Marinette took a long, deep breath. She straightened her spine. She gathered her courage. She gathered her anger . Then she walked into Nathalie Sancoeur's office. It was the only way to Mister Agreste's, and his assistant was guarding the way from her desk.
The woman was… cold was not the world. Cold would have required some semblance of temperature. Miss Sancoeur, who deserved her name, was empty. After days spying on mister Agreste, Ladybug had ample opportunity to observe his assistant. So far, there was no evidence that she felt anything at all, one way or another. She did not seem to care about Adrien. She did not seem to care about Gabriel , even though they were having an affair. Marinette was under the impression Nathalie would have been content to spend her days formatting spreadsheets.
For a time, Marinette had thought that affair was the explanation behind mister Agreste's disappearances. Secret rendez-vous seemed mundane enough. Unfortunately, it had quickly been clear that miss Sancoeur was just as baffled by her employer's absences than the rest of the world. It made her unimportant in the grand scheme of things, so Ladybug would not spy on her anymore. In the smaller scheme of things (the non quantic one), Nathalie's poorly concealed relationship with Gabriel Agreste made Adrien miserable, so Marinette was not fond of the woman.
That being said, she had not come to confront Nathalie.
"Is mister Agreste available? I had an ap-"
"He will see you right now", miss Sancoeur replied. "You can go in."
Marinette had to brace herself all over again, taking a deep breath and straightening her spine. She walked into mister Agreste's office.
The room was as cold and impersonal as his home. The furniture was modern, in shades of black and white, with the same kind of geometric patterns that decorated the doors and flower pots of his home. The whiteboard and drawing table were covered in sketches. The sheets were the only things in the room that did not look positioned with a compass and a ruler.
Mister Agreste was sitting at his desk. He was drawing, and looked up without raising his pencil.
"Miss Dupain-Cheng. You wanted to see me?"
The teenager's spine turned to stone.
"Yes, sir. Yes. Yes."
Snap out of it , she told herself. She had rehearsed for this. She knew exactly what to say. You did not rush into a fight with the owner of a Fortune 500 company without considering your words very carefully.
He raised an eyebrow.
"I wanted to inform you that I will not be continuing my internship, sir."
She opened her mouth to continue the long speech she had prepared. Mister Agreste looked down at his art.
"Very well. That's unfortunate. I'm sorry this could not work out. I wish you all the best with your future in the industry."
Marinette stared at him. He drew a curved line, then looked up, as if intrigued to see her still standing there.
"Y-you are not going to ask me why ?" she exclaimed.
"Nathalie will hand you a few forms to fill before you leave. Be sure they will be properly analyzed by our HR department, and that your suggestions and comments will be taken into consideration."
Marinette breathed in.
"It's not about the company", she said.
He raised an eyebrow. His face grew colder. He still didn't ask.
Marinette clenched her fists.
She didn't know if he was Hawk Moth. She still thought it was a possibility, she was not entirely convinced, and she had no proof anyway. She prayed for him not to be, as having confirmation of that would have shattered Adrien. Marinette had tried to discuss the matter with Tikki, who had been doubtful and evasive, repeatedly telling Marinette that she didn't know, and that they "had to wait for Fu to return to Paris to examine the situation with him". "Things", the Kwami insisted, "were not always what they seemed". She had told Marinette not to jump to conclusions, and not to act without thinking.
Well, without jumping to conclusions, there was a lot to be deduced from his behavior, and from the way the people around him saw him. Maybe he was not Hawk Moth, but Adrien was willing to believe he was. His own son did not trust him. His own son thought that his being a supervillain was a distinct possibility. That wasn't right. And then there was everything Adrien had confessed to Ladybug the previous afternoon. The secret relationship with his assistant. The neglect. The way he kept Adrien from his friends. No parties, no gifts, not a minute spared to drop by Adrien's school for parents' day.
"It's not about the company", she repeated. "I like everyone here. Everything I got to work on was fascinating. I learned so much. It's not about the company. It's about me not wanting to work for you ."
She loved his work. There was no denying that. As far as his designs were concerned, she couldn't have found enough praise in the dictionary to fully express her thoughts. Everything he had ever created was wonderful. She had binders full of pictures of his work, collected from magazines or from the internet, sorted by year, season, event. The critics raved about him. So did every fashion blogger Marinette followed. As far as creating was concerned, he could do no wrong. He had just come up with about forty different costumes in less than a week!
But that was his work.
She glared at him.
He stared back, and sighed.
"I see", he replied, clicking his tongue. "I'm sorry you didn't come to that conclusion earlier. Another student could have benefited from the weeks you wasted making up your mind."
"I'm sorry", she replied without thinking.
She bit her tongue.
"Allow me to give you a piece of advice", mister Agreste continued. "Honesty is invaluable, but the line between honesty and disrespect is a blurry one, especially in this line of work. Think twice before talking. Don't antagonize the leaders of the industry, unless you want to nip your very promising career in the bud."
"If making it in the industry means one has to keep their opinions to themselves, sir, I believe the problem is with the industry. I'll have to speak up even more to compensate. And I did think twice."
"Then think thrice ", he amended, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Thank you very much for your input, miss Dupain-Cheng. You're free to go."
He had evaded her attempts to actually explain what the problem was. She had planned to rain thunder upon him, but he had maneuvered his way out of the storm before she could raise her voice. The man was used to dealing with business sharks and celebrities. He was not about to let a teenager force him into a conversation he did not wish to have.
Well, she was not going to leave without saying her piece.
She took a step forward.
"You are destroying your son."
###