Chapter 18 - Richard’s First Letter
Emily,
I am not asking forgiveness.
Good start.
Then:
I keep thinking about the doctor saying the baby was a boy.
My body tightened.
Then:
For weeks I treated that like some cosmic punishment aimed at me.
He wrote:
That was still selfish.
Then:
Samuel being a boy did not make his death worse than if he had been a girl.
I stopped.
He had learned the sentence I wanted years earlier.
Then:
Ava and Lucy were never less.
I made them hear that they were.
I am sorry.
Then:
I am not asking you to bring them.
Good.
Then:
I understand if they never want contact.
I folded letter.
No reply.
A month later, another.
This one about money.
I told myself your inheritance was family money when I wanted it, and your responsibility when bills were due.
Then:
I kept my own savings because I wanted an escape while making sure you had none.
That hurt because precise.
Then:
I forged nothing personally? He needs own. Maybe he admitted giving Margaret signature. Good.
I gave Mom the scanned signature she used on deed.
Then:
I knew you had not signed.
Specific.
Then:
I’m sorry.
I forwarded to Nora because restitution case.
Admission could matter.
No personal response.
Then Margaret’s letter.
She wrote through approved victim channel.
Emily,
I do not ask to see girls.
Then:
I lied to Richard about Frank’s will because I thought a son would give him direction.
Then:
When he became cruel, I blamed you because admitting I helped shape it meant admitting something about myself.
She wrote:
I could have called police the first morning.
Instead I stood on porch.
That line.
Then:
I am sorry.
I did not answer.
Ava, now eight, asked one evening:
“Does Dad write?”
“Yes.”
“About us?”
“Yes.”
“Can I read?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because grown up letters can make children feel responsible for grown up feelings.”
She accepted.
Then two years later, at ten, she asked again.
We read selected, with therapist.
Richard wrote:
Nothing you did caused what happened to Mom.
Then:
Being girls did not disappoint me because of you. I chose to act disappointed.
Then:
You never have to visit me.
Ava cried.
She did not reply.
Lucy, eight by then, refused to read.
Her choice.
Then my career.
I moved to full time eventually.
Earned certification.
Became senior accounting manager.
Not billionaire.
Stable.
That mattered more.
Then I sold? No, keep house.
Then Margaret became eligible for release first.
Ava was eleven.
Victim services asked about contact conditions.
Both girls said no.
May you like
So no.
Margaret would leave prison without access to the family she once claimed to control.
