Chapter 6 - The Unraveling of Patricia
Two weeks later.
The snow was falling heavily over Chicago, blanketing the city in quiet white.
I had moved Lily to a secure, private cottage outside the city, funded by a victim’s advocacy group organized by Sarah Vance. The cottage was surrounded by tall pine trees, featuring a cozy fireplace, soft carpets, and high security.
For two weeks, Lily had been seeing a specialized child psychologist named Dr. Elena Vance. Slowly, the light was returning to her eyes. She was drawing pictures again, laughing at cartoons, and eating full meals.
On a quiet Tuesday afternoon, while Lily was upstairs playing with her building blocks under the care of a trusted nanny, a car pulled up to the snowy driveway.
It was my mother’s car.
I stood on the front porch, wrapping my heavy coat around myself, closing the front door firmly behind me so she couldn't step inside.
Patricia stepped out of the vehicle. She looked ten years older. Her expensive makeup was smudged, her designer clothes looked loose on her gaunt frame, and the polished, arrogant matriarch who had ruled Thanksgiving dinner was completely gone.
“Michael,” she choked out, her voice shivering in the freezing air.
“You shouldn't be here, Patricia,” I said coldly, standing at the top of the porch steps. “There is a protective order preventing you from coming near Lily.”
“I didn't come to see Lily,” she wept, clutching a crumpled handbag against her chest. “I came to see you. Michael... please. You have to listen to me.”
“Listen to what?” I asked, my voice devoid of any warmth. “Listen to more lies? Listen to you explain why you took three hundred thousand dollars to protect a monster who hurt my child?”
“I didn't know!” she sobbed, dropping to her knees in the deep snow at the bottom of the steps, uncaring of her expensive clothes. “I swear to God, Michael, I didn't know what he was doing in that room! When he transferred that money, he told me it was to hire private investigators to prove his innocence! He told me you were trying to ruin us!”
I looked down at my mother kneeling in the snow, feeling nothing but a profound, empty sorrow.
“You heard his voice on that recording, Patricia,” I told her quietly. “You heard your granddaughter crying at Thanksgiving dinner. You saw her flinch when he walked into the room. You knew. You just cared more about his money and your status than you did about a six-year-old girl’s life.”
“I’m broke, Michael!” she wailed, rocking back and forth in the cold. “The state froze all of Victor’s assets! His board of directors ousted him from the company yesterday! The bank is repossessing the house, my friends won't return my calls... I have nothing left!”
“You had a son and a granddaughter,” I said, tears burning the back of my eyes. “And you traded us for a castle built on rotten wood.”
I pulled a thick white envelope from my coat pocket and tossed it into the snow near her knees.
“What is this?” she whispered, trembling.
“It’s a subpoena,” I revealed coldly. “Detective Torres and the State Prosecutor are calling you as a key witness for the prosecution at Victor’s criminal trial next week. You are going to take that witness stand under oath, Patricia. And for the first time in your life, you are going to tell the whole world the truth.”
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She looked up at me, her face pale with horror, realization dawning upon her that there was no escape from the consequences of her choices.
I turned around, walked back inside the warm house, and locked the door against the cold.
