Chapter 6 - MY MOTHER’S VERSION OF LOVE
My mother arrived at the hospital that afternoon carrying Sophie’s favorite stuffed rabbit.
She had given it to Sophie two Christmases earlier.
A pink bow was tied around its neck.
The gesture would have looked loving to anyone who did not know her.
Hospital security stopped her outside the pediatric unit.
She asked to see me.
I met her near the elevators.
She held out the rabbit.
“This belongs to Sophie.”
“You can leave it with the nurse.”
“I would like to give it to her myself.”
“No.”
My mother’s face tightened.
“I am her grandmother.”
“You watched Preston plant the phone.”
Her fingers closed around the rabbit.
“I did not know what he was doing.”
“The camera shows you watching him.”
“I thought he was playing with her.”
“You looked at Dad.”
“I look at my husband often.”
“He nodded.”
“You are imagining meaning because you are angry.”
I laughed quietly.
It sounded empty.
“Madeline recorded you.”
My mother stopped breathing.
“She recorded the meeting where you discussed using Sophie.”
“That woman is unstable.”
“She was stable enough to save the evidence you tried to destroy.”
My mother lowered her voice.
“We never wanted anyone hurt.”
“You wanted to frame an eight-year-old child as a thief.”
“Only for a few minutes.”
The answer stunned me.
“Only for a few minutes?”
“The phone would have been found.”
“People would have whispered.”
“You would have left the reception.”
“Then what?”
“We would have calmed everything down.”
“After I signed the proxy?”
Her silence confirmed it.
I stepped closer.
“Why, Mom?”
She looked exhausted for the first time.
“Your father made mistakes.”
“What mistakes?”
“He expanded too quickly.”
“He borrowed money.”
“How much?”
“Eighty-two million dollars.”
My body went cold.
“Against what?”
“The hotels.”
“All of them?”
“Most.”
“The board never approved that.”
“The board did not need to know every operational detail.”
“A mortgage on company property is not an operational detail.”
“The Hart sale would have solved it.”
“By closing five hotels and firing hundreds of people.”
“It would have protected the family.”
There it was again.
Family.
The word my mother used whenever she meant Preston.
“What about the employees?” I asked.
“They would find other jobs.”
“What about Sophie?”
“She would have received a trust.”
“A reward for being publicly humiliated?”
My mother’s eyes filled with tears.
“You always think I love Preston more.”
“You do.”
“I love both my children.”
“No.”
I pointed toward the elevator.
“One child is in a hospital bed because the other tried to crush her skull.”
“You came here to protect him.”
“I came here to protect all of us.”
“There is no us anymore.”
Her tears disappeared.
The softness left her face.
“You are emotional.”
“I am clear.”
“You are going to destroy the company your grandmother built.”
“Dad already did that.”
“You do not know everything.”
“Then tell me.”
My mother looked toward the security camera above the elevator.
“Not here.”
“I am not going anywhere alone with you.”
“I would never hurt you.”
“You helped Preston hurt Sophie.”
She looked down at the stuffed rabbit.
“I did what your father asked.”
“You always do.”
“He has carried this family for forty years.”
“He carried Preston.”
“He trained the rest of us to crawl.”
The elevator doors opened.
My mother stepped inside.
Before they closed, she looked at me.
“If you continue, your father will file for emergency custody of Sophie.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“He believes you exposed her to danger by causing a confrontation at the wedding.”
“Preston attacked her.”
“You knew the relationship was tense.”
“You brought her anyway.”
The cruelty of the argument was almost impressive.
“You planned the confrontation.”
“That will be disputed.”
“The CCTV proves everything.”
“The ballroom footage proves Preston planted a phone and lost his temper.”
“It does not prove we expected violence.”
She held the rabbit against her chest.
“Your father’s attorneys will say you are financially unstable.”
“They will mention your divorce.”
“They will mention the nights you work late.”
“They will mention Sophie’s missed school days last winter.”
“She had pneumonia.”
“Court records do not always carry context.”
The elevator doors began closing.
“You will sign the proxy,” my mother said.
“You will ask the prosecutor for leniency.”
“Then we will forget this terrible night.”
I pressed my hand against the door.
It opened again.
My mother looked startled.
“You taught me something useful.”
“What?”
“You taught me that love without protection is only a word.”
I took the stuffed rabbit from her hands.
“You are not taking my daughter.”
The doors closed between us.
When I returned to Sophie’s room, she was drawing on a hospital tray.
She had drawn two figures beneath a yellow sun.
One was small.
One was tall.
“Who is that?” I asked.
“That’s us.”
She pointed toward the empty side of the paper.
“Grandma used to be there.”
My throat tightened.
“Why did you erase her?”
Sophie continued coloring.
“She saw Uncle Preston put the phone in my pocket.”
I sat down slowly.
“You saw her?”
“She looked at me.”
“What did she do?”
“Nothing.”
May you like
Sophie pressed the black crayon harder.
“So I don’t want her in the picture.”
