Chapter 13
Charles’s arrest shattered the Whitmores.
Grant tried to cut a deal.
Malcolm blamed Grant.
Vivian blamed Beatrice.
Peter blamed everyone.
Beatrice went silent.
That silence did not last.
Three days after Charles was charged with conspiracy, attempted murder, fraud, and murder connected to my father’s death, Beatrice requested a meeting.
Elias told me not to go.
Simone told me not to go.
Adrian said nothing.
That was why I asked him.
“What do you think?”
He looked at me carefully.
“I think you should only go if you need something from her, not if you hope she’ll become human.”
That answer saved me from myself.
I went with Simone.
Behind glass, Beatrice looked smaller.
No pearls.
No champagne.
No cruel daughters laughing beside her.
Just a woman whose power had been built on other people staying quiet.
She picked up the phone.
“You ruined my family.”
I sat down.
“You tried to drown me.”
“You never belonged with us.”
“Good.”
Her eyes flashed.
“Your father was arrogant too.”
“My father is dead.”
“So will Charles be, in prison.”
Her mouth trembled for the first time.
There it was.
Not remorse.
Loss of possession.
“You knew,” I said.
She looked away.
“You knew Charles killed him.”
“He did what was necessary.”
I stared at her.
“And what was I?”
Her lips pressed together.
“Collateral.”
The word slid through me like ice.
Simone’s pen stopped.
Beatrice realized too late she had said it aloud.
I stood.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For reminding me there is nothing in you I need.”
I walked out.
May you like
Not healed.
But free from the fantasy that she would ever regret my pain.
