Page 39 of The Thief
"Impressive, isn't it?" Marcus says, walking beside me like a shadow I can't shake.
"It's something."
"Your father used to love this garden. Spent hours here as a boy, climbing trees and getting into trouble."
Another story about Dad I never knew. Another piece of a life that was kept from me.
"What was he like? As a child?"
"Wild. Reckless. Always getting into fights, always defending the underdog. Henry used to say Killian had too much heart for this business."
"Too much heart?"
"Compassion can be a weakness in our world. It makes you hesitate when you should act, trust when you should suspect."
It’s like he's warning me that having too much heart is a family failing I need to watch out for.
"Maybe the world needs more compassion."
"Maybe. But compassion doesn't keep your family safe."
We walk in silence for a while, Marcus pointing out features of the grounds like he's giving a tour: the greenhouse where Henry grows orchids, the old stable that's been converted into a garage for his collection of vintage cars, the guest cottage where visiting family stays.
All very civilized. All very normal. Like violence is just a hobby practiced somewhere else.
"You don't trust me," Marcus says suddenly.
"Should I?"
"Probably not. Trust is earned, not given."
At least he's honest about it.
"Why don't you like me?" I ask.
"What makes you think I don't like you?"
"The way you look at me like I'm going to steal the silver. The way you follow me around like I'm a flight risk."
He stops walking and turns to face me. For the first time since I've met him, the practiced smile is gone.
"I've been with this family for forty years, I’ve watched them build something from nothing, witnessed them survive wars that should have destroyed them. You know what threatens families like ours?"
"What?"
"Outsiders who don't understand the rules. Who think they can change things, make them softer. Who bring weakness where we need strength."
"And that's what you think I am? A weakness?"
"I think you're eighteen years removed from this life. I think you have ideals about right and wrong that don't exist in our world. I think you could get people killed with your compassion."
Harsh words but probably fair ones. I don't understand their rules, their codes, their casual acceptance of violence as a solution to problems.
"Maybe that's not entirely a bad thing."
"Isn't it? Tell me, how many people died because your father tried to keep you separate from this life? How many wars could have been avoided if Killian had brought you home instead of playing house in Belfast?"
The questions hit like slaps. Is he right? Did Dad's decision to keep me away cause more harm than good? Are people dead because he chose my innocence over family unity?
