Chapter 19 - The Letter We Didn't Owe Her
The letter arrived through the attorneys, not at our home. Sofia offered to summarize it instead of making Mara read it. Mara chose to see the whole thing.
Mom wrote that she had been frightened after Elsie's difficult birth. She said she saw how tired Mara was and became convinced nobody else would act quickly enough. She admitted she had lied about the thirty-seven minutes and had approved the edited video. She did not plainly admit forging my signature. She said she hoped she could "earn her place back" before Elsie's first birthday.
Mara read it once. Then she folded it and gave it to Sofia.
"I don't want to answer," she said.
"You don't have to," Sofia replied.
Months later, Mom accepted responsibility in court for the assault and received supervised conditions and a no-contact requirement. Investigators continued examining the false paperwork. We didn't need a dramatic trial to protect our daughter.
I visited my father's grave alone that fall. Mom had always said Dad wanted us together. Now I understood how she had twisted togetherness into obedience.
"I won't teach Elsie that," I told the headstone.
At home, Mara had painted one nursery wall pale yellow. Not pink, like Mom wanted. Not gray, like I'd suggested. Yellow, because Mara said it looked like a room where the sun was allowed to stay.
She handed me a roller. I painted the corner she'd missed. Elsie lay on a blanket between us, reaching for a soft cloth rabbit. No one corrected Mara's hands. No one announced that the baby needed saving from her.
Later, while we cleaned brushes, Mara said, "I think I might be happy again someday."
May you like
I wanted to promise the day had already arrived. I didn't. I kissed her paint-speckled knuckles and said, "I'll be here while you find out."
The next morning a cream-colored envelope arrived, addressed to Elsie in my mother's handwriting. No return address. Inside was an invitation to a family Christmas dinner.
