Chapter 5
My porch seemed to tilt under my feet.
“What?”
Mom clutched her purse like it could protect her.
“Denise signed a letter. She said Nathan would be living in a stable family home after release.”
“My home?”
“Yes.”
“She signed my address?”
Mom nodded.
I gripped the doorframe.
“How could she do that?”
“She said you would agree once he was out.”
My voice dropped.
“And you knew?”
“I found out later.”
“Later when?”
Mom looked away.
“When his release papers came.”
“That was six months ago.”
Her silence was another betrayal.
I stepped back from the door.
“I can’t do this.”
“Lena, please.”
“No.”
“I was wrong.”
“You were quiet.”
“I thought if I told you, everything would explode.”
I laughed softly.
“It exploded anyway. You just made sure I was standing in the blast.”
She began to cry.
My mother rarely cried.
When she did, she expected the whole room to rearrange around her.
I did not move.
“Denise said Brianna loved him,” Mom whispered. “She said you had wasted enough years. She said Nathan wanted a child and you probably couldn’t give him one.”
That one hit deep.
Not because I wanted a baby with Nathan now.
Because I had wanted one then.
Before prison.
Before sentencing.
Before eight years passed.
I had once imagined a little boy with Nathan’s eyes and my stubborn chin.
By the time he came home, that dream felt like a dress I no longer fit.
But hearing my sister discuss my body like an expired option made something inside me go cold.
“I need you to leave,” I said.
Mom reached for me.
I stepped back.
She stopped.
For once, she understood that touching me would not fix anything.
After she left, I called Carolyn.
She was silent while I explained.
Then she said, “That could be fraud. It also matters for parole.”
By evening, Nathan’s parole officer knew.
By morning, Nathan was ordered in for review.
Denise called me screaming before I had coffee.
“You vindictive bitch!”
I put the phone on speaker and set it on the counter.
Mara, who had stayed the night, raised an eyebrow.
Denise continued.
“You want him sent back because he chose someone who can give him a family?”
There it was again.
The baby as weapon.
Brianna as proof.
Me as discarded.
I said, “You forged my consent.”
“I wrote a letter.”
“With my address.”
“You would have said yes.”
“No, Denise. You were counting on me being too loyal to say no after the fact.”
She went quiet.
Then she hissed, “You always thought you were better than me.”
“No. I thought we were sisters.”
That silenced her longer.
Then Nathan grabbed the phone.
“Lena.”
My stomach turned at his voice.
“You need to stop.”
“No.”
“You’re ruining my parole.”
“You did that.”
“You’re hurting Brianna.”
“You did that too.”
His voice lowered.
“You think I won’t tell people things about you?”
Mara straightened.
I stayed still.
“What things?”
“That you sent me dirty letters. That you begged me to marry you. That you were desperate enough to wait for a convict.”
The words were meant to shame me.
For the first time, they did not.
“I loved you,” I said. “That is not dirt on me.”
He breathed hard.
“You’ll be alone.”
“Still cleaner than being with you.”
I hung up.
Mara slowly smiled.
“That was beautiful.”
“I’m shaking.”
“Still beautiful.”
At the parole hearing two days later, I sat beside Carolyn.
Nathan sat across the room in a cheap suit.
Denise sat behind him.
Brianna was not there.
His officer reviewed the forged release support letter.
The stolen savings account.
The threatening call.
The relationship with Brianna while incarcerated.
Nathan’s attorney tried to call it “personal conflict.”
The parole officer did not smile.
“Mr. Cole, you established your approved housing based on misrepresentation.”
Nathan looked at me.
“She would have let me stay if she wasn’t jealous.”
The officer turned to me.
“Ms. Ward?”
I stood.
My knees shook, but my voice did not.
“For eight years, I supported him because I believed in rehabilitation. I still believe people can change. But Nathan did not come home changed. He came home practiced. He used my money, my address, my family, and my grief. I do not feel safe with him having access to me.”
Nathan scoffed.
I kept going.
“My niece is pregnant. She is also afraid of him. I am not asking you to punish him for cheating. I am asking you to see the pattern.”
The room went quiet.
The parole officer did.
Nathan was remanded pending investigation for violations.
Denise erupted.
“This is your fault!”
Two officers removed her.
Nathan stared at me as they took him back.
For once, I saw fear in his face.
Not remorse.
Fear.
May you like
It was not enough.
But it was a start.
