Nathan believed love meant ownership.

Charles believed something far more dangerous: that trust meant access, and that access, extended over enough years and enough decimal points, meant you could simply take.

He had been the real threat the entire time.

Nathan was a smash-and-grab; Charles was a slow tide, going out so gradually that the water was half gone before anyone thought to look at the shoreline.

And the elegance of it, the thing that made me almost admire him even as I understood what he’d done, was that Charles had never needed to hide from me.