Patterns Were My Profession
If Michael preyed on me, he got nothing.
Henry had built a machine that could only hurt Michael if Michael chose to hurt me first, and then he had trusted our son to make the right choice, and hoped, and died.
Michael made the wrong choice.
The machine did just what it was built to do.
And not one part of it was Henry’s cruelty.
All of it was Michael’s.
Michael had failed it.