Chapter 7: Theo
We met at a coffee shop twenty minutes from my house, neutral ground, his suggestion.
He was already there when I arrived — dark-haired, slight, with Megan's same sharp eyes but a different quality in them.
Where Megan's eyes assessed, Theo's watched.
He stood when I walked in.
Shook my hand properly.
"Thank you for coming," I said.
"Thank you for not making this weird." He sat back down.
"I was prepared for it to be weird."
"It still might be."
He smiled at that.
It was a real smile.
We ordered.
When the coffees came, he wrapped both hands around his mug and looked at me directly.
"Daniel told me about the list."
"All five rules?"
"All five." He shook his head slightly.
"Rule 5 is new.
She didn't put that in Kara's version."
"So you knew about Kara's list."
"Megan told me about it afterward.
She was — she was proud of it, like Daniel said.
I told her I thought it was a mistake.
We didn't speak for two months." He looked at his coffee.
"She came around eventually.
Enough to call me again.
But she never said she thought she was wrong."
"What do you think is driving this, Theo?
Honestly."
He was quiet for a moment, choosing carefully.
"Our mother," he said, "was genuinely difficult.
I don't want to minimize that.
What Megan experienced was real.
The control, the intrusion — it was real and it was damaging." He paused.
"But Megan has spent so long protecting herself from our mother that she's built a kind of early-warning system.
And the system is too sensitive now.
It goes off for things that aren't threats."
"Like me."
"Like you.
From what Daniel tells me, you were present.
You were helpful.
You maybe didn't always ask first.
But you weren't Diane." He met my eyes.
"Diane once called Megan's employer and told them Megan was emotionally unstable.
Megan was twenty-four.
She almost lost her job."
I stared at him.
"That's what Megan is protecting herself from," he said.
"And I understand it.
But you're not that person.
And the list — especially Rule 5 — that's not a boundary.
That's a preemptive strike."
"Can she see that?"
"Not right now.
Right now she's about to give birth and she's frightened and she's in the mode where the system is running at full volume." He turned his mug slowly.
"But after.
When the baby is here and things settle — there might be a window."
"And until then?"
"Until then, I think you have to be very careful.
Not because you've done anything wrong.
But because Megan is in a state where any pushback will confirm the story she's already telling herself about you."
I looked at the table.
"So I wait."
"You wait strategically." He leaned forward slightly.
"Don't sign Rule 5.
That's non-negotiable — you're right that it's a trap.
But don't make it a war right now either.
Tell Daniel you need more time to consider the list as a whole.
That buys space without escalating."
"And what do you do?"
He sat back.
"I'm going to visit Megan next week.
I was planning to anyway — I want to be there close to the due date.
And I'm going to talk to her.
Not about you specifically.
But about the pattern.
About what I've seen." He paused.
"She might not listen.
She might throw me out.
But she's my sister and that baby is my niece or nephew and I'm not going to sit quietly while she burns down her family over a fear that belongs to a different person."
My eyes stung unexpectedly.
I pressed my fingers to the table.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked.
"You don't know me."
"No," he said.
"But I know Megan.
And I know that if she goes through with this — if she actually cuts you out — she'll regret it in ten years.
And she'll find a way to make that regret someone else's fault too." He picked up his coffee.
"I'm doing this for her.
And for the baby.
And maybe a little bit for Daniel, who has the self-preservation instincts of a golden retriever."
I laughed.
It surprised me.
"He does," I agreed.
Theo's phone buzzed on the table.
He glanced at it and went still.
He turned it so I could see the screen.
A text from Megan: *Theo, did Daniel ask you to talk to his mother?
May you like
Tell me the truth.*
We looked at each other across the table.
