Chapter 15 - My Mother’s Choice
My mother was arrested at her home before sunrise.
Reporters gathered outside the gates as officers escorted her into a police vehicle.
She wore pearls.
Even in handcuffs, she looked composed.
My father was arrested two hours later on charges connected to bribery, obstruction, and witness intimidation.
Preston disappeared before police reached his apartment.
His passport remained in the steel cabinet, but one of the false passports belonged to him.
Federal agents believed Mr. Grayson had helped him flee.
A warrant was issued nationwide.
Camille entered protective custody.
Sophie and I were moved again.
This time, only Detective Ruiz, Lena, and David knew the address.
The criminal hearing began without Preston.
My mother requested to speak with me before entering her plea.
I almost refused.
Then I remembered every year I had spent waiting for her to choose me.
I wanted to see whether prison had changed anything.
We met inside a secure interview room.
A glass partition separated us.
She picked up the phone.
“You look tired,” she said.
“My daughter has nightmares.”
“Children recover.”
“Did Rebecca Sloan recover?”
My mother’s expression tightened.
“You have been digging through things you don’t understand.”
“I understand that you threatened a paralyzed teenager.”
“I protected the family.”
“You protected Preston.”
“He was young.”
“He is always young in your stories.”
“He was your father’s only son.”
“And I was what?”
She looked at me without answering.
The silence told me everything.
“I loved you,” she finally said.
“No.”
My voice remained calm.
“You loved the version of me that stayed quiet.”
“We gave you everything.”
“You gave me comfort in exchange for obedience.”
“You will regret destroying your father.”
“He destroyed himself.”
“And Preston?”
“He fractured Sophie’s skull.”
My mother leaned closer to the glass.
“He never meant to hit her that hard.”
The words stopped me.
“You knew he planned to hit her.”
Her face changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
“You knew.”
“He said he would frighten her.”
“You helped him choose the board.”
“I told him to use something that would make noise.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“She could have died.”
“He lost control.”
“No.”
I stared at her.
“You gave him permission.”
For the first time, my mother began to cry.
Not for Sophie.
Not for me.
For herself.
“If I testify against him, he will hate me.”
“He already does.”
“You don’t know that.”
“He left you behind.”
She looked away.
Before I left, she whispered, “The old ballroom.”
“What?”
“Preston has a room beneath the old ballroom.”
“What room?”
“He said it was where he kept insurance.”
“What kind of insurance?”
My mother looked toward the guard.
May you like
Then back at me.
“The kind that can destroy you.”
