“I do know you, Riona,” I say, calmly. “You think you’re independent and invulnerable. You think you want power in your family. But I know you need so much more than that.” “What?” She demands. “You need to be loved,” I tell her. “You’re not above it any more than I am. You’ve been happy here with me. Happier than you are at home. This is where you belong—here with me.”
