Chapter 13 - MY MOTHER’S HANDS
Mom stared at the photograph of the torn label.
“I threw it away.”
“When?”
“The next morning.”
“Why?”
“Because Peter told me to.”
Detective Collins leaned forward.
“After your husband died?”
“Yes.”
“Why was a doctor instructing you to remove a medication label after a death?”
“He said the bottle was incorrectly marked.”
“Where was the bottle?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who took it?”
“I thought Peter did.”
“Lawson says he didn’t.”
Mom laughed bitterly.
“Of course he does.”
I sat beside Collins.
“Did Raymond?”
Mom looked at me.
“I don’t know.”
“You found him downstairs.”
“Yes.”
“Did you ask why he was there?”
“I was in shock.”
“What did he do after Dad died?”
“He hugged me.”
The answer made my skin crawl.
“Then?”
“He told me not to call you yet.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He said there was no reason to wake you.”
“I was on the other side of the world.”
“I know.”
“You couldn’t have woken me.”
“I know.”
“Then what did he mean?”
Mom started crying.
“He meant don’t notify your command.”
I stared at her.
My command could have arranged emergency communication.
They could have notified me immediately.
Instead, I learned about Dad’s death six hours later from Evan.
“Why did you listen?”
“Because I was angry.”
“At me?”
“Yes.”
“For obeying Dad?”
“I didn’t understand.”
“No.”
My voice shook.
“You wanted me punished.”
She covered her face.
“I wanted you to feel what I felt.”
That confession hurt differently from the others.
The financial deception was ugly.
The blocked calls were cruel.
But this was personal.
Mom had deliberately delayed telling me because she wanted me to suffer.
“What did you feel?”
“Abandoned.”
“By Dad?”
“By everyone.”
“Dad was dying.”
“You were gone.”
“I was serving.”
“You always say that like it erases absence.”
I stared at her.
“No.”
“It explains it.”
She lowered her hands.
“I hated that uniform sometimes.”
I looked down at the navy fabric I was still wearing days after the memorial only in my mind.
Dad had loved it.
Mom saw it as the thing that took me away.
“Did you hate it enough to keep me from Dad?”
Her silence answered.
Collins redirected.
“Margaret, we need Raymond.”
“I don’t know where he is.”
“He contacted you.”
“Once.”
“From what number?”
“Blocked.”
“Did he mention money?”
Her face changed.
Collins noticed.
“What?”
Mom hesitated.
“He said if I stayed quiet, everything could still be fixed.”
“What does fixed mean?”
“The sale.”
“Thomas is dead.”
“The trust still owns the shares.”
“But Claire controls the vote.”
Mom looked at me.
“Yes.”
I understood.
Raymond still needed me.
My father had died.
His scheme had failed anyway.
As long as I refused to sell, he could not complete the deal.
That meant he had reason to contact me.
Collins understood at the same moment.
“We can use that.”
Mom shook her head.
“No.”
I turned.
“Why?”
She whispered.
“Because Raymond told me if Claire doesn’t cooperate, he’ll make sure the Navy learns what she did.”
I almost laughed.
“What I did?”
Mom looked terrified.
“He has documents.”
“What documents?”
May you like
“Something that makes it look like you gave your father’s company confidential information.”
My blood went cold.
