Chapter 10 - HER VERSION
By morning, my mother had become the frightened woman in the story.
The knife was proof.
The shed was self-defense.
Three days had become a few hours.
The hospital was Maya's attempt to get attention.
I drafted a furious response and sent it to Daniel instead of the family chat.
He called immediately.
“Don't argue evidence with thirty people who can forward your words.”
“So I let them say it?”
“You can set a boundary without holding a trial by text.”
I sent one message.
Maya was hospitalized after being confined against her will. Police are investigating. Do not contact her on Evelyn's behalf. I will not discuss evidence here.
Then I muted the chat.
Nora called at noon.
Someone had left flowers at her building with a card asking Maya to forgive a grieving mother.
There was no signature.
Maya asked the front desk to refuse further deliveries.
When I visited that afternoon, she sat near the window in borrowed sweatpants.
An untouched glass of water stood on the table.
“Everybody keeps telling me to drink,” she said.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Yes.”
I sat across from her.
She picked up the glass herself a minute later.
“I heard about the knife,” she said.
“You don't have to answer them.”
“I know. I want to answer you.”
“You don't need to.”
“Caleb. Let me finish.”
I closed my mouth.
“She put it beside the recorder after Martin opened the package. When I reached toward the water, she slid everything away. I never touched it.”
“I believe you.”
This time, I didn't add an explanation about my mother.
That evening, Ortiz called with news.
Martin had been arrested at a motel outside town.
Investigators had recovered his laptop and a blue folder while executing authorized searches.
The materials still had to be examined.
“There's something else,” she said.
“Your aunt gave us the original message your mother sent her Tuesday.”
The message included a photograph of Maya's suitcase by the front door.
Proof, Evelyn claimed, that Maya had left.
Tuesday was a full day before Martin brought the knife to the shed.
My mother had prepared her first lie before she had invented the reason for needing it.
May you like
Then Ortiz asked a question I wasn't ready for.
“Did you know your mother had a bus ticket booked in your wife's name for Friday morning?”
