It was one of those writer moments where you have a decision to make that won't impact the general course of the story, won't affect the plot in any way, but will irretrievably affect how you write the remainder of the book.

After I wrote that second-to-last paragraph, I didn't know what I was going to make Brick do. He'd already indicted himself, sold Gwenda to the slave trader, a horribly wrong and selfish decision, but he had this: he hadn't done it for the money. In his shattered, grief-distorted thinking, his motive was to get the hurt away. Get Gwenda, and through her Ladeia's memory, somewhere where it couldn't hurt him. The words are specifically "he had forgotten" about the money. But to be frank, it never even crossed his mind. He had "forgotten" in his plans that this was a purchase, money was a default accessory, and his initial reaction is blank refusal. Did I let him keep that -- that scrap of honor, as meaningless as it might be in the end? Or did I let him compound his wrongs once and for all?

The slave trader is waiting. Brick's not going to get out of this by a knee-jerk reaction. The slave trader doesn't have interest in doing people "favors"; this is a business to him and he wants proof of contract.

If Brick does continue to refuse, he does so deliberately. His initial refusal isn't a mark in his favor, it arises from confusion and indifference (and maybe just an ounce of irritated repulsion), but further refusal means that he has a line he won't cross. He won't treat his own daughter like a piece of commerce, and he's willing to actively say so.

If he accepts, though, he also does so deliberately. An initial acceptance, like the initial refusal, would have counted for next to nothing. But if Brick says "yes" now, he's turned his back on the small offer of redemption that is left. He loses any respect the readers might have for him at this point. He shows that the money is more important than Gwenda, than principles, than honor, than his own self.

Did I need to do that to him? Could I give him a little comfort in his wretched existence from now on?

And then I realized, no, I couldn't give him comfort. Brick needed to have nothing at the end. Nothing that could make him say, "But I didn't go that far; I'm still okay." Given the chance, he would have. He'd have refused to recognize his selfish heart for what it was. He needed to be able to realize how wrong he'd been all along.

As far as what actually goes on in Brick's head...

Brick realizes the money is something he wants. Something that can make the hurt stop. And this both increases the stakes of the question and means it's over. Brick's lost. Because when has Brick ever followed principle over what he wants?

Brick crosses the line. Deliberately. He has no pride left. Just a mix of self-love and self-loathing that's going to keep eating him for the next nine years, with zero comfort whatsoever. He learns self-perception, but it doesn't help him improve... just makes him hate his bad decisions worse.

Until he gets the biggest self-perception blow of all, that he went wrong by his 'Deia, and he's finished letting life whack him over the head and carry him on its waves. He does the most proactive thing of his life. He runs.

Still a bad decision, dude. But not your worst. Someday I'll write the rest of your story.