Chapter 9
I remembered Olivia’s invitation.
She had called me three weeks earlier with tears in her voice.
“We’re still family,” she had said. “Let me make things right.”
For once, I had wanted to believe her.
I had almost accepted.
A last-minute work emergency saved my life.
Ruiz added conspiracy to commit murder to the growing list of charges.
When Olivia learned the police had found the messages, she demanded to see me again.
This time, she looked smaller behind the glass.
No smile.
No performance.
Just fear.
“Patrick planned the accident,” she said the moment I lifted the phone.
“You bought the insurance.”
“Mom told me to.”
“You’re thirty-four years old, Olivia. Stop blaming her for every choice.”
“She controlled me.”
“She controlled me too. I didn’t set fire to a building.”
Olivia began crying.
“If I testify against her, will you tell the prosecutor I helped?”
“You tried to kill me.”
“I wasn’t going to do it.”
“You sent Patrick the location.”
“I changed my mind.”
“When?”
She hesitated.
“Before the trip.”
“Then why didn’t you warn me?”
Her silence answered.
She had not changed her mind.
She had simply failed.
“I hated you,” she whispered. “But I didn’t always hate you.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“Do you remember when you were seven and fell through the ice?”
I did.
Olivia had pulled me toward the shore with a tree branch.
For years, I had held that memory as proof that somewhere beneath her cruelty, my sister loved me.
“You saved me,” I said.
“Mom punished me afterward.”
“What?”
“She said if you had drowned, everything would have been easier. She locked me in my room for two days because I ruined her chance to be free of you.”
The room went cold.
“I never knew.”
“That was when I learned loving you made her hate me.”
Pain crossed Olivia’s face.
For the first time, I saw the child she had once been.
But understanding was not forgiveness.
Mom had poisoned both of us.
Olivia had still chosen to keep drinking.
“I’m sorry she did that to you,” I said. “But you became her weapon.”
“I know.”
The honesty surprised me.
She pressed her palm to the glass.
“I’ll testify. Not for a deal. I’ll tell them everything.”
“Why?”
“Because she abandoned me the moment I was arrested.”
Mom had done what she always did.
When someone stopped being useful, she erased them.
I left without touching the glass.
Months passed before the trial.
The mortgage went unpaid, and the bank began foreclosure proceedings. I could have saved the house with one phone call.
I chose not to.
The building held no happy memories worth purchasing again.
Samuel helped recover most of the stolen trust funds. Ethan voluntarily returned what remained in his accounts, but I instructed Samuel to place that money into a legitimate education fund for him.
“You don’t owe me this,” Ethan said.
“No. And you don’t owe me for being born.”
Saying those words healed something inside me.
Nora reopened Rosewood Books in a larger storefront.
I invested as a business partner, not because she asked, but because I wanted to build something with her.
We spent evenings learning each other’s histories.
She told me about the songs she sang while pregnant.
I told her about the first bicycle Dad bought me.
Some conversations ended in laughter.
Others ended in tears.
All of them were real.
Rachel visited the bookstore one afternoon.
She apologized for leaving without confronting me.
I apologized for building walls she could never climb.
We did not pretend the past had disappeared.
We agreed to start with coffee.
Slowly.
Honestly.
On the first day of Mom’s trial, the courtroom was crowded.
Olivia entered wearing a prison uniform.
She testified for nearly four hours.
She admitted the fraud, the forged documents, the arson, and the planned accident.
Then the prosecutor asked about Dad.
Olivia looked directly at Mom.
“My father begged us to call for help. My mother told me to wait.”
Mom showed no emotion.
“And what did you do?” the prosecutor asked.
“I waited.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted her love more than I wanted to do what was right.”
Olivia’s voice broke.
“I have spent my whole life becoming someone she might love. She never did.”
For the first time, Mom reacted.
“That’s a lie!” she shouted.
The judge ordered her to remain silent.
Mom stood and pointed at Olivia.
“I protected you! I gave you everything!”
Olivia shook her head.
“You gave me Daniel to hate so I wouldn’t notice you hated both of us.”
The courtroom fell silent.
Mom looked toward me.
Her expression changed.
She mouthed three words.
This is yours.
Even now, she wanted me to accept the blame.
I held her gaze and shook my head.
No.
The jury deliberated for two days.
Before they returned, Ruiz called me into the hallway.
“We searched the old house one final time before the bank took possession.”
“What did you find?”
“A locked box beneath the basement stairs.”
Inside were medical records, forged wills, and one unopened letter addressed to me.
The handwriting belonged to Dad.
May you like
But the date was impossible.
It had been written three days after his death.
