Chapter 4 - Facing the Mirror
In mid-January, Daniel moved his family out of the sprawling Maplewood estate and into a rented three-bedroom townhouse. The transition was painful. His children, confused and upset, had to adapt to a simpler lifestyle. Claire took a part-time job at a local marketing agency, her first employment in nearly a decade.
Daniel’s business—a boutique PR firm that survived solely on Margaret’s subsidies—had to shut down its expensive downtown office. He laid off his staff and relocated the operation to a small basement desk, working eighteen hours a day just to retain his few real clients.
One Sunday evening, Daniel arrived at Margaret’s house alone. He didn't ask for money. He asked if he could shovel her driveway.
Margaret watched through the window as her forty-two-year-old son cleared the heavy snow from her walkway, his knuckles red, his breath steaming in the dark. When he finished, she opened the door and handed him a thermos of hot soup.
"Thank you," Daniel said quietly, not stepping inside. "I'll do the front steps tomorrow before work."
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"Daniel," Margaret called out as he turned to leave. "Why did you say 'wrong house' that night?"
Daniel stopped. He kept his back to her for a long moment before turning around. Tears welled in his eyes. "Because Claire's father made a joke about old people dragging down the mood. I was terrified of looking weak in front of them. So I pushed you away to pretend I was the man in charge." He wiped his face with his sleeve. "It was the most cowardly thing I've ever done."
