Chapter 16 - Susan’s Apology
Susan served twenty seven months before release to supervised reentry.
Tyler asked if I wanted know.
“No.”
Then:
“She wants apologize.”
“No.”
Six months later:
“Still?”
“Yes.”
Then one year.
I changed.
Not because she deserved.
Because I wanted hear whether accountability had moved beyond sentencing script.
Neutral mediator.
Susan entered.
No sunglasses.
She looked older.
“Chloe.”
“Susan.”
Then:
“I won’t ask you to forgive.”
Good start.
She admitted specific.
Fake scholarship email.
Witness signatures.
Blue Heron.
Funeral.
No:
Richard made.
Then:
“Why laugh?”
I asked.
She closed eyes.
“Because I had spent years seeing you as competitor.”
“With you?”
“Yes.”
“That’s insane.”
“Yes.”
Then:
“Richard told me you thought I was gold digger.”
“I did.”
She smiled sadly.
“I was.”
Direct.
“I liked money. I liked that he was older and successful. I also loved him for a while.”
Then:
“He constantly told me Grandma and you looked down.”
Sometimes perhaps.
Grandma disliked.
I did judge age.
Then:
“I wanted to prove I belonged more than you.”
“So you stole from me.”
“I helped.”
“Tyler?”
“I convinced myself he deserved equal.”
“He deserved support from you and Dad. Not me.”
“I know.”
Then:
“Did you know Grandma was afraid?”
“Yes.”
That hurt.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
Then:
“Did you ever think Dad would hurt her?”
“Financially yes. Physically no.”
He did not physically as known.
Then:
“Why did you let him use her signature stamp?”
“I thought everything would stay family and be fixed later.”
The word later.
Fraud’s favorite.
Then she said:
“I’m sorry I helped teach you that needing less made you worth less.”
I had not expected.
Richard praised Tyler’s consumption.
Mocked my thrift.
Grandma was opposite.
Then:
“Do you want relationship?”
“No.”
She nodded.
“Okay.”
I surprised myself.
“I forgive you.”
Susan cried.
I continued.
“That does not mean holidays.”
She laughed through tears.
“I understand.”
We left.
No friendship.
Tyler asked.
“How?”
“Fine.”
“Do you forgive?”
“Yes.”
He hugged.
Maybe for himself.
Then Susan rebuilt relationship with Tyler slowly.
She worked at home decor store.
No Blue Heron.
No access to his finances.
She asked before giving gifts.
He sometimes said no.
Progress.
Then Richard heard.
He wrote:
You forgive Susan but not me?
I did not answer.
Comparison again.
Then year six of sentence.
He finally stopped writing about money.
Letter:
I watched another man here blame his daughter for reporting him.
Then:
I heard myself.
I read twice.
Then:
“I threw passbook into Mom’s grave because I wanted you to think she left nothing. I knew if you saw red stamp, you might ask.”
Direct.
Then:
“I wanted her buried with evidence.”
Then:
“I shoved you because you reached.”
No excuse.
Then:
“I am sorry.”
Still not ready.
But closer.
Then Tyler and I took Grandma’s old photograph collection to digitize.
There was a picture of Richard at twenty seven holding newborn me.
His face soft.
He loved.
I stared.
Tyler:
“That weird?”
“Yes.”
“Does it make worse?”
“Yes.”
Because love and theft coexist.
Grandma’s sentence.
Then I framed not photo.
May you like
I stored.
No need erase.
