(I jumped the gun. Caleb can win. Not even sure if I'll bother continuing to write. There is no point anymore, Lochlan is crushed and I have lost my orientation and no longer know which end is up.)
Time has run out. Ruth is due to be picked up shortly and you didn't do very well, princess. As entertaining as you all are, I won't risk the children to the extent that you seem to think I will.
What do you mean? I can hear the exhaustion creeping into my own voice.
Do you really think your little tests were independent? And do you really think that returning Lochlan's diaries absolves him of anything at all? And don't you think if your precious preacherman was still alive, he wouldn't move heaven and earth to be with you? I am so disappointed in you, Bridget. You take everything at face value all the while assuring the world that you trust no one. Lochlan has no claim to my brother's child. Oh, and the next time you try to best me in this little game of life remember this week. Remember the damage done to your better half, remember the risk you took in creating new upheaval with the children and remember one more thing.
I am nodding.
Are you listening, princess?
Yes.
I don't lose.
