Chapter 13 - The Nursery Margaret Had Prepared
The answer arrived through Marla.
The same cousin who had posted the edited video.
She called Tessa at midnight.
“I think I made a mistake.”
Tessa put the call on speaker.
“You think?”
“I believed Aunt Margaret.”
“You posted a video you knew was edited.”
“She said Rachel was dangerous.”
“And you believed the woman who slapped a toddler?”
Marla began crying.
“I didn’t see that part.”
“You watched the livestream.”
“I joined late.”
Tessa said nothing.
Then Marla whispered, “There’s a room.”
“What room?”
“At Margaret’s house.”
I felt my skin prickle.
“She remodeled the upstairs guest room.”
“When?”
“Months ago.”
“How?”
Marla hesitated.
“Like a little girl’s bedroom.”
Nobody spoke.
Marla continued.
“Pink walls.”
“A toddler bed.”
“Books.”
“Clothes.”
“Toys.”
My stomach turned.
“She told us it was for Maisie.”
I stood without realizing it.
“For visits?”
“She said for when Maisie stayed with her.”
“Maisie has never spent the night there.”
“I know.”
“When did she build it?”
“Last spring.”
Six months before the birthday.
Before the petition.
Before the public war.
“Did she say anything else?”
Marla sniffed.
“She joked that eventually Maisie would spend more time there than at home.”
Tessa whispered, “Jesus.”
Marla continued.
“I thought she was exaggerating.”
“Then last month she showed me a preschool near her house.”
“She said Maisie would do better there.”
The room felt suddenly too small.
After the call ended, Dana advised us not to go to Margaret’s property.
We didn’t.
Marla agreed to photograph the room during her next visit.
The pictures arrived the following afternoon.
A child’s bedroom.
Exactly as described.
Pink curtains.
A white toddler bed.
Maisie’s name spelled in wooden letters above the wall.
A closet full of clothing.
Some still had tags.
Size 2T.
Size 3T.
Size 4T.
Clothing purchased for years.
On the bookshelf sat framed photographs.
Margaret and Maisie.
Evan and Maisie.
Maisie alone.
I appeared in none of them.
Then I noticed something beside the bed.
A laminated routine.
7:00 - WAKE.
7:30 - BREAKFAST.
8:30 - PRESCHOOL.
12:30 - NAP.
6:00 - DINNER.
7:30 - BATH.
8:00 - BED.
Below it was another paper.
HOUSE RULES FOR MAISIE.
NO THROWING FOOD.
NO TANTRUMS.
NO YELLING.
NO DISRESPECT.
I could barely breathe.
At the bottom, in Margaret’s handwriting, one final sentence appeared.
CONSISTENCY WILL FIX WHAT LACK OF DISCIPLINE CREATED.
Dana stared at the photograph for a long time.
“This isn’t proof of a crime.”
“I know.”
“But it supports planning.”
I nodded.
Then another picture loaded.
Marla had photographed Margaret’s desk.
A folder was visible.
The label read:
MAISIE - TRANSITION PLAN.
Dana immediately told Marla not to touch anything.
But Marla had already opened it.
Inside was a calendar.
And one date had been circled.
Eleven weeks after Evan’s birthday.
May you like
The day after Margaret’s control over his trust was supposed to end.
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