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Okay but can we discuss the significance of that little jump. This is a happy little boy. The Verger household was a place Margot grew up inside that was once no more than a nightmare. A hellish scape filled with the sounds of her pain or her suffering, her brother’s cruelty, her parents’ negligence at her own plight even before Mason’s abuse, the probable forgotten nature of the twin who doesn’t matter because she’s not the heir. The extra piece, so to speak, who turns out to be ‘broken’ to them. And now? Now the house is filled with the sounds of that child’s laughter. Of his delighted little shouts as he races through halls. Of the staff sufficiently less tense, Mason’s reign broken, Margot the mistress of the house with her wife. There’s nothing to cover up anymore, no secrets, no filthy abuse or violence inflicted to hush up. There’s a gleeful little one, Alana’s warm voice, full and calm, reading him stories before bedtime, Margot able to freely take him down to the stables knowing she’s in charge of every square inch of property, all the horses, never having to be afraid of having them taken from her. This is a place that went from some old, dinghy relic, an artifact that seemed more the equivalent of a museum than a home, and now, it is a home. That’s a happy little boy with a happy family who’s going to live a happy life, and it’s a family Margot Verger-Bloom made with her wife.