Chapter 10 - MARGARET'S VERSION
Margaret finally agreed to talk.
Not because she wanted to confess.
Because she wanted control of the story.
She sat across from Lena wearing the same navy dress she'd worn to my wedding.
No diamonds now.
No perfect smile.
Just a tired woman staring at a table.
Jason watched from behind the interview-room glass.
So did Richard.
I stood beside them.
Margaret began.
“I loved Daniel.”
Nobody doubted that.
“That was the problem.”
She looked toward the mirror.
As if she knew exactly where Jason stood.
“He was exactly like his father.”
Richard flinched.
“Stubborn.”
“Certain right and wrong were simple things.”
She laughed bitterly.
“They aren't.”
Lena asked,
“What happened that night?”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Daniel took the documents.”
“And?”
“I followed him.”
“Why?”
“To stop him.”
“From exposing Charles?”
“From destroying the family.”
Lena leaned forward.
“Continue.”
“I pulled alongside his car.”
“Did you hit his vehicle?”
Margaret's eyes opened.
“No.”
“Did you attempt to force him off the road?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“He looked at me.”
Her voice cracked.
“For one second.”
“He was shouting.”
“I was shouting.”
“Then he looked backward.”
“At Jason.”
“And when he looked forward again, he was too close to the barrier.”
Jason pressed his fist against his mouth.
Margaret continued.
“He turned too hard.”
“The car spun.”
“I stopped.”
“I ran.”
“Jason was screaming.”
“Daniel was trapped.”
Lena asked quietly,
“Why didn't you call 911?”
Margaret started crying.
“I panicked.”
“You called Charles.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the documents were in the car.”
There it was.
The ugliest truth wasn't that Margaret had intentionally killed Daniel.
The evidence couldn't prove that.
The truth was somehow more human.
And more terrible.
Her son was dying.
And for several crucial minutes, Margaret had cared about protecting the family scandal.
Lena asked,
“How long before you called emergency services?”
Margaret whispered,
“Nine minutes.”
Jason turned away.
Richard punched the wall.
Not hard.
Just once.
Like his body needed somewhere to put twenty-seven years of grief.
Margaret continued.
“When I finally went back to Daniel, he was still breathing.”
Lena waited.
“He asked about Jason.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him Jason was safe.”
“And?”
Margaret's shoulders shook.
“He said, ‘Good.’”
Jason collapsed into a chair.
I sat beside him.
Margaret whispered,
“Then he died.”
The room remained silent.
Lena asked one final question.
“Why burn the wedding dress?”
Margaret looked toward the mirror.
“Because Charles told me he'd sent the documents to her.”
My stomach tightened.
“He said if she married Jason, she'd eventually uncover everything.”
Margaret wiped her eyes.
“I thought if I could stop the wedding, I could still contain it.”
Jason stared through the glass at his mother.
“She burned your dress because she was afraid of you.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
May you like
I shook my head.
“She burned it because she was afraid of the truth.”
