“It’s his.”
“I know that!”
“No,” I said. “You don’t. You never have.”
She went silent.
I let those words sit on the table between us, right next to the envelope.
But the worst of her confession was still coming. I could feel it.
Part Twelve: “I Never Thought You’d Drive That Far”
“And now?” I asked.
She didn’t answer. Her silence answered for her.
“You saw my accident as another chance.”
“Mom…”
“Another chance to get Walter. And another chance to get your hands on his money.”
Her eyes filled again. “I never thought you’d actually drive that far.”
“You told me to wear the old pair.”
“I thought you’d get behind the wheel and realize you couldn’t see! That you’d turn around, or call me, or miss the appointment. Anything.”
“And
then what?”
“Then I’d have proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That you weren’t safe anymore!” Her voice cracked in half. “That your eyes were getting worse. That you couldn’t keep raising Walter on your own.”
I felt something inside me go very, very quiet.
“So you took my glasses to make me look incapable.”
“I needed something people couldn’t brush off.”
“And instead, I nearly died.”
“I didn’t know you’d crash!”
“But you knew I couldn’t see.”
She opened her mouth. Nothing came out.
“So this was never about keeping me safe,” I said.
“It was about Walter.”
“And the trust.”
“I would’ve taken care of him!”
“Taking care of him isn’t the same thing as wanting him, Lisa. He knew the difference. He’s nine, and he knew the difference. He sat by my bed for eleven days because of it.”
“Mom, please…”
“Leave.”
“Please.”
“Leave.”
She stood, clutching her coat.
At the door, she turned back one last time.
“What about Walter?”
I looked at her for a long moment.
“For once in your life,” I said, “don’t put his name next to something you want.”
Part Thirteen: Not That Easily
The front door had barely closed when I heard feet pounding down the stairs.
