Caleb was not asking Chloe to fight his battle for him.

That is what a lesser man might have done, might have used the child as his instrument, his messenger, his excuse.

That was not this.

Caleb had already drawn the boundary himself, fully, as her father, taking the entire adult weight of it onto his own shoulders.

What he was handing Chloe was not the responsibility for the boundary but the authority over it, the power to decide when, and whether, it got enforced.

He was taking the one thing Beatrice had spent three years stripping from a little girl, her sense that she had any power at all over what happened to her, and he was giving it back to her, deliberately, in the shape of a small red box.