Chapter 15
Another year passed.
Two years.
Three.
Leo turned eleven.
He was in fifth grade now.
Tall for his age.
Smart.
Funny.
Kind.
He loved science and soccer and building things with his dad in the garage.
He didn’t remember much about Helen anymore.
The bad memories had faded, replaced by good ones. Birthdays. Vacations. Soccer games. The treehouse his dad had finished, with a rope bridge and a flag and a secret compartment for candy.
David’s company had grown.
He’d hired five employees.
He’d won a small business award from the city.
He was happy.
Truly happy.
The kind of happy he’d never been when his mother was in his life, pulling his strings, making him feel small.
My company was bigger than ever.
We’d expanded to three cities.
We’d started a foundation—The Leo Foundation—to help children who’d been abused by family members. To give them legal help. Therapy. Safe homes. A chance to be kids again.
We’d poured millions into it.
It was the best work I’d ever done.
Life was full.
Busy.
Loud.
Loving.
And then, on a rainy Tuesday in March, the call came.
It was the Department of Corrections again.
I recognized the number on my phone.
My stomach dropped.
I answered.
“Mrs. Carter?” the woman on the other end said. “This is Nurse Mitchell from the Central Prison Medical Facility. I’m calling about Helen Carter. She took a turn for the worse last night. The doctors say she has hours. Maybe less. She’s asking for her son. David. She says she needs to speak to him before she goes. It’s her last request.”
I was quiet.
“Mrs. Carter?” the nurse said. “Are you still there?”
“I’m here,” I said. “I’ll talk to my husband. We’ll let you know.”
I hung up.
I sat at my desk for a long time.
Staring out the window at the rain.
She was dying.
Finally.
For real this time.
And she wanted to see David.
One last time.
I called him.
He answered on the second ring.
“Hey,” he said. “I was just about to call you. Leo’s soccer coach emailed. They moved the game to Saturday because of the rain. Do you think we can—”
“David,” I said. “It’s Helen. She’s dying. They say she has hours. She’s asking for you.”
Silence.
Long.
Heavy.
“Okay,” he said finally. His voice was flat. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll think about it. I’ll call you back.”
He hung up.
I didn’t hear from him for three hours.
I didn’t push.
This was his choice.
His cross to bear.
Finally, he called.
“I’m going to go,” he said.
“Okay,” I said.
“I don’t want to,” he said. “God, I don’t want to. But if I don’t… I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what she wanted to say. Wondering if she apologized. Wondering if I missed my chance to… I don’t know. To be the bigger person. To end it with kindness instead of hate.”
“I understand,” I said.
“I don’t want you to come,” he said. “This is something I have to do alone. Just me and her. No lawyers. No guards. No cameras. Just… a son and his mother. At the end.”
“Okay,” I said again. “But I’m sending Marcus with you. He’ll wait outside the room. You won’t even know he’s there. But I need to know you’re safe. Please.”
“Okay,” he said. “Marcus can come.”
He picked me up from the office on his way.
We sat in the car in the parking lot of the prison.
It was still raining.
Hard.
The wipers slapped back and forth.
I turned to him.
“Whatever happens in there,” I said, “whatever she says… I love you. And I’m proud of you. No matter what you decide. No matter what you feel. It’s okay. You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel.”
He took my hand.
He kissed it.
“I know,” he said. “Thank you. For everything.”
He got out of the car.
Marcus followed him.
They walked through the gates.
I watched them go.
May you like
And then I sat.
And I waited.
