Page 79 of Psychotic Faith
He reaches for Faith's hand, but she steps back, moving closer to me. The movement deliberate as a blade between ribs.
"Fix what? Me?" Her voice stays gentle even as she destroys him. "Dad, I'm not broken. I'm finally whole."
"He's corrupted you."
"I was corrupted when Mom died." The admission stops him cold. "I've been pretending since then. Pretending to be good while planning violence. Pretending to believe in law while documenting revenge. Pretending to be your perfect daughter while dreaming of blood."
Each word cuts deeper. The Judge looks between us, seeing the truth finally.
He turns to me, desperate. "If you have any decency, let her go."
"No." The word comes out flat, final. I'd kill him before releasing her. Would wash the dishes with his judicial blood before letting him take what's mine.
"Dad," Faith's voice turns gentle but firm. "I love you. But I'm not leaving."
The Judge's face cycles through emotions: rage, grief, desperation, and finally, the beginning of defeat. "He'll destroy you."
"Maybe." She takes my hand, interlacing our fingers again. "Or maybe we'll destroy everything else. Together."
She pauses, then delivers the killing blow: "Mom would understand."
The Judge flinches. "Your mother would be horrified."
"Mom would understand someone willing to burn the world for me." Her voice stays raspy but steady despite the tears I can tell are building. "She would have done the same for you. That's why Neumann killed her. Because she loved too fiercely to be controlled."
The parallel lands perfectly. The Judge sees it, his wife's daughter choosing the same fierce love that got her mother killed. But choosing it with a warrior capable of protecting her.
"The investigation into the Rosettis," the Judge says slowly, recognizing defeat. "You want me to drop it."
"Completely," I confirm. "All surveillance ends. No interference from your office or any federal channels."
His jaw clenches. "And in return?"
"You keep your daughter in your life," I state simply. "On whatever terms she chooses."
Faith adds, "I'll still come to Sunday breakfasts. Pretend enough for appearances."
The word 'pretend' cuts him visibly. The Judge realizes this is the best offer he'll get. The only way to maintain any relationship with his daughter.
"If he hurts you," he starts.
"Then I'll hurt him back," Faith interrupts. "We're equals, Dad. Matched in our violence."
The Judge processes this new reality. His daughter isn't a victim. She's a participant. A willing partner in darkness.
"Trent Neumann is missing," he says suddenly, testing.
Faith's expression doesn't change. "Is he?"
"His security team too. Twenty-four hours now." The Judge watches her carefully for any tell.
"Chicago's dangerous," I observe. "People disappear. Especially people who strangle women."
"His wife hired private investigators," the Judge continues.
Faith's smile is cold as January. "She should save her money. Men like Neumann always abandon their families eventually."
The Judge understands. Neumann is gone. Permanently. And his daughter was involved. The knowledge breaks something in him. His shoulders slump, aging him a decade in minutes.
