Chapter 12 - MY FATHER’S LAST NIGHT
Margaret did not confess immediately.
People like her rarely did.
They corrected.
They reframed.
They blamed.
Eventually, the evidence spoke louder.
Thomas had discovered Margaret stealing from the company.
He planned to fire her.
He also planned to bring Rebecca back and restore her legal rights regarding me.
The night he died, Margaret followed him to a private garage.
They argued.
Victor was fourteen at the time.
He was there.
He had seen everything.
Ramirez played Victor’s statement for me.
“My mother hit Thomas with a tire iron.”
I closed my eyes.
“She only hit him once. He fell. He hit the concrete.”
Victor’s recorded voice broke.
“She kept saying he ruined everything.”
Margaret staged the crash afterward.
Bought silence.
Altered records.
Built a story.
And then raised the dead man’s son as her own.
Not because she loved me.
Because controlling me gave her access to everything Thomas left behind.
When Margaret finally spoke, she still wouldn’t call it murder.
“It was an accident.”
Ramirez stared at her.
“You struck him with a metal object.”
“He attacked me.”
“No evidence supports that.”
“He was angry.”
“So were you.”
Margaret said nothing.
I sat behind the observation glass.
Rebecca beside me.
Neither of us spoke for a long time.
Then Margaret asked to see me.
I entered.
She looked smaller in jail clothes.
But her eyes were still hard.
“I raised you.”
I remained standing.
“Yes.”
“I gave you everything.”
“You gave me a lie.”
“You had schools. Vacations. Money.”
“You stole my mother.”
Margaret’s jaw tightened.
“She walked away.”
“You threatened to kill me.”
“I protected you.”
“From who?”
“From chaos.”
I laughed.
“You were the chaos.”
She looked away.
Then I said, “Noah is safe.”
Her face changed.
Tiny movement.
Still enough.
“He will inherit.”
Silence.
“The trust is out of your reach.”
More silence.
“Mercer Development is being audited.”
Nothing.
“Victor is cooperating.”
That finally hit.
Margaret turned.
“He betrayed me?”
“He stopped protecting you.”
Her lips parted.
I leaned closer.
“You lost.”
For once, she had no answer.
Then she smiled.
And something about it made me uneasy.
“You think this is about money?”
I stared at her.
“What else is there?”
Margaret leaned back.
“Ask Rebecca why Charles never gave the trust directly to you.”
I froze.
“What?”
She smiled wider.
“Ask her whose bloodline Noah actually belongs to.”
May you like
My stomach tightened.
And suddenly, even behind bars, Margaret had found one more secret to throw at us.
