Protective ActionThe words did not sound real through the phone.Maybe because Jonah said them in that careful voice children used when they knew the adults were already scared.Maybe because See you at Briar sounded too theatrical, too strange, too much like a threat written by someone who enjoyed being feared.Or maybe because Violet’s brain simply refused, for one merciful second, to accept that someone had just reached for her son with a fake social worker, an unsigned petition, and a destination waiting like an open mouth.Briar.Again.Always.
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