Chapter 14 - Our Mother’s Letter
Penelope asked to see me after reading Marianne’s letter.
This time I agreed.
Prison meeting room.
She was thinner after childbirth.
No burgundy dress.
No umbrella.
No Garrett.
We sat across glass? Maybe mediated legal room, no glass depending detention. Let's say secure attorney mediation room with officer outside.
She placed letter on table.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“Tobias?”
“No.”
She laughed bitterly.
“I spent fifteen years being angry about something Mom knew would hurt me.”
“Yes.”
“She tried.”
“Yes.”
Then:
“Would it have changed me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Probably.”
“Maybe.”
She looked at me.
“You’re not supposed to comfort me.”
“I’m not.”
Then she asked:
“Why did Arthur not change trust?”
I explained.
Arthur’s voting shares were already subject to multigenerational restrictions protecting Hayes bloodline from outside transfer. Penelope was not his biological descendant under those terms.
Could he have created other structures?
Yes.
He did through nonvoting economics and Marianne’s assets, but not equal voting control.
Was that emotionally fair?
Maybe not.
Legally deliberate.
Then Penelope whispered:
“I wanted eight to become sixty-two.”
“Yes.”
“I was willing to kill you.”
“Yes.”
She started crying.
“I loved you.”
I said nothing.
Because maybe true.
Then:
“When Garrett said you would always have everything, I believed him.”
“What did I have?”
“Dad’s name. Tobias’s loyalty. Company. People listened when you spoke.”
I almost laughed.
“You had your own company.”
“I wanted yours.”
There.
Not fairness.
Possession.
Then Garrett.
“Did you know he planned to challenge you after birth?”
“No.”
“Would you have gone through with river if you knew?”
She looked at me.
“I want to say no.”
“Truth.”
“I don’t know.”
Good.
Then:
“I kept waiting for a reason to stop that made me innocent. There wasn’t one.”
That sentence stayed.
Then she handed me something.
A printed message from Garrett after she told him pregnancy.
Garrett:
Our child will inherit what Victor couldn’t buy.
She had kept.
I felt nauseous.
The baby as instrument.
Then:
“I named him Julian because it’s my father James’s middle name.”
Not Hayes.
“I don't want Garrett’s name.”
Good.
Then she asked:
“Will you ever meet him?”
Her son.
My nephew biologically half-nephew.
“I don’t know.”
“He didn't do anything.”
“I know.”
Same as children in other stories. No automatic obligation.
Then:
“Caroline is good with him.”
“I’m glad.”
We ended.
No hug.
Then Garrett’s trial began.
Two cases coordinated but distinct:
Attempted murder/conspiracy.
Financial and obstruction counts.
Parents-crash cover-up-related charges.
Prosecutors decided to try river case first.
Good.
No overloading.
I wore navy.
No orange satin.
That dress had been cut off me at hospital and retained for evidence.
I never wanted it back.
Then opening statement.
Prosecutor:
“This case begins with an SUV entering water. It does not begin there.”
Defense:
“The government has built a murder story from a marriage collapse, a cooperating mistress, and a brother who secretly lied about paralysis for four years.”
There.
Tobias leaned toward me.
“Catchy.”
I almost laughed.
Then jury saw vehicle.
Messages.
Shore video.
Penelope.
And eventually Garrett.
May you like
He would testify.
Of course.
