Chapter 10 - Her Version of Me
According to Margaret, I had ordered the household to keep the boys quiet at any cost.
According to Margaret, Lena had administered the medicine.
According to Margaret, the pantry lock had been my idea.
My attorney, David Shaw, read the statement in silence.
Then he looked at me.
“Tell me the worst thing you actually said.”
I stared across my study.
We were home.
The boys had been discharged with follow-up appointments and instructions from their medical team.
Julia was upstairs.
Lena had agreed to stay temporarily, under a new arrangement she could end whenever she wanted.
The pantry remained sealed for evidence collection.
“The worst thing?”
“No polishing.”
I remembered a late call with Singapore.
Nico crying down the hall.
My own voice, sharp with exhaustion.
“I said I didn’t care how Margaret handled the schedule.
I needed quiet during meetings.”
David wrote it down.
“Anything about medication?”
“Never.”
“Confinement?”
“No.”
“Did you know?”
“No.”
He set down his pen.
“Then we tell the truth.
Including the parts you hate.”
The next morning, Ruiz interviewed me again.
I answered every question.
The late nights.
The missed messages.
The trust I had placed in Margaret.
The way I had let her decide which problems reached me.
When she asked why I hadn’t acted sooner, I didn’t mention grief first.
“I wasn’t paying attention.”
Ruiz held my gaze.
“That doesn’t make her choices yours,” she said.
“But it matters that you understand what gave her room.”
After she left, I went upstairs.
Lena sat on the nursery rug while the boys stacked soft blocks.
“I need you to know I never told her to do that.”
Lena looked up.
“I believe you.”
The relief was so sharp it embarrassed me.
Then she added, “But she knew what you didn’t want to hear.”
I sat beside them.
A block landed against my shoe.
Nico held out another one.
I took it.
For ten minutes, we built a tower and knocked it down.
Then Harris appeared at the nursery door.
“Sir.
There’s a problem with the house records.”
I stood.
He handed me a folder.
May you like
Across the top, in Margaret’s handwriting, were two words.
NANNY INCIDENTS.
