Chapter 9
Time slowed down.
I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears.
I could see Helen’s finger tightening on the trigger.
I didn’t run.
I didn’t scream.
I just looked at her.
And I thought of Anna.
The baby she’d lost.
The baby she’d never stopped loving.
“Helen,” I said, my voice calm and steady.
“Before you do this… there’s something you need to know.”
She hesitated.
Her finger stopped tightening.
“What?” she whispered.
“Anna,” I said.
“I found her. She’s here. In the city. She came to the trial hearing yesterday. She’s been sitting in the back row every day, wearing a blue scarf, so you wouldn’t recognize her. She didn’t want to distract you. She just wanted to see you. To make sure you were okay.”
Helen’s whole body jerked.
The gun wavered.
“You’re lying,” she said.
“You’re just trying to trick me again.”
“I’m not lying,” I said.
I reached into my pocket.
Pulled out my phone.
Pulled up the photo Marcus had taken of Anna in the courtroom that morning.
I held the phone out.
“She’s thirty-six now. She’s a pediatric nurse. She works with abused kids. Kids just like Leo. She says she always knew, deep down, that her birth mother loved her. That there was a good reason she had to give her up. She doesn’t hate you, Helen. She never did. She just wants to meet you. To finally have a mother.”
I took a slow step forward.
The officers didn’t move.
“She’s downstairs in the car right now,” I said softly.
“I called her when the police called and said you were coming. She’s been waiting outside for forty minutes, too scared to come up. Scared you’d reject her. If you pull that trigger now… you’ll never get to hold her. You’ll never get to tell her you loved her every single day you were apart. You’ll never get to meet your two grandsons. They’re five years old. Twins. They have your eyes. They’ve been asking when they get to meet their grandma.”
Another step.
Helen’s hand was shaking so hard the gun rattled.
Tears were pouring down her face.
“Put the gun down, Helen,” I said.
“It’s not too late. You can still have that. You can still be loved. Not for your company. Not for your money. Just for being her mom. Just for being you.”
I stopped.
Three feet away from her.
I held out my hand.
Helen stared at me.
Stared at the photo on my phone.
A sob tore out of her throat.
The gun slipped from her fingers.
Fell to the carpet.
She collapsed into my arms.
Sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.
The officers moved in.
Handcuffed her again.
But this time, she didn’t fight.
She just looked at me.
“Can I see her?” she whispered.
“Please. Before they take me away. Just for five minutes.”
I nodded.
I walked to the window.
Looked down at the street.
Waved.
Five minutes later, Anna walked through the door.
She was beautiful.
She had Helen’s eyes.
Her smile.
She saw Helen standing there in handcuffs.
And she ran to her.
They held each other for ten minutes.
Crying.
Whispering.
No one said a word.
When the officers finally led Helen out, she looked back at me.
“Thank you,” she mouthed.
The door closed.
I sank onto the couch.
Shaking.
Marcus walked in a minute later.
He’d heard everything from the hallway.
He didn’t say anything.
Just handed me a glass of water.
The next three months passed in a blur.
Helen pled guilty to all charges.
Attempted murder.
Kidnapping.
Perjury.
Fraud.
Conspiracy.
She was sentenced to twenty years in a minimum-security prison.
Anna visited her every week.
They wrote to each other every day.
Helen spent every minute of her sentence working to make amends.
She testified against the corrupt judge.
Against the paid witnesses.
Against everyone who’d helped her over the years.
She gave every last cent she had left to the Langford pension fund, to pay back the money she’d stolen.
She wrote Leo a letter.
Twelve pages long.
Apologizing over and over.
Telling him she was sorry she’d ever hurt him.
That she hoped one day, when he was older, he could find it in his heart to forgive her.
I put it in his memory box.
I’d give it to him when he was old enough to understand.
Langford Group thrived under Mia.
She was brilliant.
Fair.
Kind.
Everything Helen had never been.
We paid back every penny of the pension fund.
Fixed all the safety violations at the factories.
Gave every employee a raise.
Built three new community centers in the neighborhoods where our factories were located.
Leo turned seven.
He was happy.
Confident.
He didn’t have nightmares anymore.
He didn’t flinch when strangers talked to him.
He knew he was safe.
He knew he was loved.
More than anything in the world.
The week before his birthday, I thought everything was finally perfect.
I thought the war was over.
I was wrong.
I got a text from an unknown number at 2 a.m.
Just a photo.
Helen.
Standing outside the prison gates.
Free.
May you like
Underneath it, three words.
I’M NOT DONE.
