Chapter 7 - A Mother’s Hands
Mom let go of my wrist.
“Nothing. I was organizing.”
“My bedroom?”
“You’ve been so busy.”
She smiled.
The same smile she used when she forgot a birthday and wanted the conversation to move on.
I walked downstairs.
She followed.
“Mariana, wait.”
Marcus stepped away from the front door.
“Good morning, Ms. Stella.”
She ignored him.
“Are you upset with me?”
That was her oldest trick.
Ask me to reassure her before I had permission to explain why I was hurt.
“No,” I said.
“Then why are you acting strange?”
“I haven’t slept.”
“Oh, sweetheart.”
She reached for my face.
I stepped back before she touched me.
Her hand hung between us.
For a moment, I saw anger.
Then it disappeared.
“Big day,” she said.
“Yes.”
Outside, I sat in the car while Marcus spoke quietly with Evelyn.
He returned carrying a sealed envelope.
“The attorney says this stays with me until she receives it.”
The handwriting pages.
I closed my eyes.
At the hotel, the makeup artist arrived to find Lena feeding me toast in tiny, furious pieces.
“You don’t get to pass out,” she said. “Eat.”
Beth, the wedding planner, stood near the door with a clipboard.
“I spoke with Father Thomas. He’ll meet you privately before guests are seated.”
“Does he hate me?”
“He said he’d rather interrupt a wedding than watch someone walk into a marriage under false pretenses.”
That almost made me cry again.
Evelyn entered with Marcus.
They had photographed the notepad where it lay, preserved it, and added it to the material being reviewed.
“This strengthens our concerns,” she said. “It doesn’t answer every question.”
“Was he going to forge my signature if I refused?”
“We may never know exactly what he intended.”
“I think I do.”
She sat beside me.
“Then let’s be careful that anger doesn’t make us claim more than the evidence shows.”
I nodded.
I needed one person in the room willing to tell me the truth, even when the truth was less satisfying.
At eight forty, Beth’s phone rang.
She stepped into the hallway.
When she returned, her expression had changed.
“Julian wants to move the signing.”
“To when?”
“Now. Before hair and makeup.”
Evelyn stood.
Beth looked at me.
“He’s downstairs.”
May you like
Then she added the part that made every conversation stop.
“And your mother brought a notary.”
