Chapter 14 - The Grandmother's Plan
Richard explained everything.
Months earlier, Deborah had repeatedly talked about me returning to work after maternity leave.
She hated the idea.
Not because she believed mothers should stay home.
Because she wanted to become the twins' primary caregiver.
“She said you would be too exhausted.”
Richard told me.
“She said eventually Travis would realize the babies were better off with family.”
“I am their family.”
“I know.”
He looked ashamed.
“She didn't see you that way.”
Deborah had even prepared a nursery at her house.
Two cribs.
Two car seats.
Boxes of diapers.
She had told friends she expected the babies to spend “most weekdays” with her.
I had never agreed to any of it.
Richard continued.
“When you resisted, she started telling Travis you were isolating him.”
“She made him think every boundary was an attack.”
My anger became strangely quiet.
“And the day I went into labor?”
Richard covered his face.
“I thought you were uncomfortable.”
“I didn't understand how serious it was.”
“I said you could wait.”
“I will regret that until I die.”
“Regret doesn't erase it.”
“I know.”
He stood.
“I’m leaving Deborah.”
I looked at him.
“That has nothing to do with me.”
“No.”
“It doesn't.”
“But I’m done protecting her from consequences.”
Before he left, he gave Detective Ortiz access to Deborah's computer.
What investigators found changed everything.
There were searches about grandparents' custody rights.
Searches about proving a mother unfit.
Articles about postpartum depression.
Templates for documenting “maternal instability.”
Deborah had even created a folder with my name on it.
Inside were photographs taken when I was tired.
Messages where I complained about morning sickness.
One video of me crying after an exhausting prenatal appointment.
She had been building a narrative.
Not necessarily because she expected me to die.
But because she expected motherhood to make me vulnerable.
And she planned to use that vulnerability against me.
When Travis learned about the folder, he asked to speak with me.
Against Cassandra's advice, I agreed to one supervised phone call.
His voice sounded hollow.
“I didn't know about the folder.”
“I believe you.”
He exhaled.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“You were too busy helping her create the evidence.”
Silence.
“Natalie.”
“No.”
“You don't get to cry to me because your mother manipulated you.”
“You watched me collapse.”
“You heard a doctor warn you.”
“You still drove away.”
“I know.”
His voice broke.
“I know.”
“Then live with knowing.”
He whispered something I almost missed.
“I never thought the babies could die.”
I closed my eyes.
“That was the problem.”
“You thought your mother's feelings mattered more than the possibility.”
Then Travis said something unexpected.
“There’s a video you haven't seen.”
My eyes opened.
“What video?”
“The mall parking garage.”
“What about it?”
“My car records audio.”
“And Mom said something after the hospital called.”
I gripped the phone.
“What?”
Travis went quiet.
Then he answered.
May you like
“She said if something happened to you, maybe it would solve everything.”
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