Chapter 13
My mother asked to see me before her hearing.
I said no.
Then Amelia surprised me.
“Go,” she said.
I stared at her.
“She doesn’t deserve your concern.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
Amelia looked down at her hands.
“Because I want to know if she is sorry.”
“You don’t have to carry that.”
“I’m not,” she said. “You are.”
That silenced me.
Children see the wounds adults decorate.
So I went.
Mother sat behind glass in a gray visiting room.
No pearls.
No silk.
No command in her posture.
For the first time, she looked like a woman without a house to arrange herself inside.
“Adrian,” she whispered.
I sat.
“You have ten minutes.”
Her hands twisted together.
“I loved you.”
I almost stood.
She pressed on.
“I loved you badly.”
That stopped me.
She cried quietly.
“I thought if Amelia needed me, you would need me. After Elena died, you were slipping away. Miranda said we could keep the family together if we managed Amelia’s care.”
“Managed?”
“I know.”
Her face crumpled.
“I know what it was.”
I waited.
“I gave her the drops. I told myself the doctor approved them. I told myself Amelia was calmer. I told myself lies until I forgot they were lies.”
My throat tightened.
“And Rosa?”
Mother closed her eyes.
“I knew Miranda sent Stefan to scare her. I did not know he killed her.”
“But you helped hide what Rosa knew.”
“Yes.”
The word fell between us.
Small.
Heavy.
Finally true.
“What do you want from me?”
She looked up.
“Nothing.”
That answer hurt because I believed it.
“I will plead guilty,” she said. “I will testify against Miranda. Not for forgiveness.”
“Then why?”
She wiped her cheek.
“Because Amelia stood. And I realized I had spent years helping bury a living child.”
I stood.
At the door, she said, “Can you tell her I am sorry?”
I turned back.
“No.”
Mother nodded, accepting it.
I said, “But I will tell her you told the truth.”
Her eyes filled again.
“That is more than I deserve.”
“Yes,” I said.
“It is.”
At home, Amelia waited in the garden with Noah.
I told her.
She listened.
“Is she safe now?” Amelia asked.
“No. But she is telling the truth.”
Amelia thought about that.
“Truth is a start.”
Noah crossed his arms.
“Prison is better.”
May you like
Amelia smiled.
“Both can be true.”
