Chapter 9 - Celeste's Last Bargain)
Celeste did not shout.
That made the confrontation worse.
She walked toward Reed with the measured disappointment of a mother correcting a child.
"You recorded me."
Reed slipped the device into his pocket.
"Stay back."
Celeste laughed.
"Do you hear yourself?"
Maren positioned the wheelchair near the study desk.
Her phone was transmitting audio to Blackthorne.
Evelyn's team was three minutes away.
They only needed Celeste to keep talking.
Celeste looked at Maren.
"You did this."
"No," Maren said. "You did."
"You arrived in this family and started digging through graves."
"My mother was alive."
"Your mother was unstable."
"Because you stole her newborn."
Celeste's expression tightened.
"I saved you."
Maren stared.
"From what?"
"From becoming Evelyn."
"She's spent thirty three years looking for me."
"Exactly."
Celeste turned toward the window.
"You know nothing about who she was then."
"Tell me."
"Obsessive. Reckless. Determined to destroy families because money moved from one company to another."
"You mean stolen."
"Money has no morality."
Maren almost smiled.
Reed's argument.
Of course.
Children learned language long before they understood meaning.
Celeste had taught him everything.
She approached Maren.
"You had good parents."
"I did."
"A safe childhood."
"Yes."
"An education."
"Yes."
"So what exactly did I steal?"
Maren looked directly at her.
"Choice."
For the first time, Celeste had no immediate answer.
Maren continued.
"You stole my mother's right to raise me. You stole my right to know her. You stole thirty three birthdays. Thirty three Christmases. Every question I asked about where I came from. Every night she wondered whether I was alive."
Celeste's face remained composed.
"Sentiment."
"No."
Maren shook her head.
"Consequence."
Celeste looked toward Reed.
"Give me the recorder."
"No."
"I will fix this."
"You can't."
"I have fixed worse."
"Harrison?"
Silence.
Maren watched carefully.
Celeste's eyes became flat.
Reed whispered, "You killed him."
Celeste sighed.
"Your father was weak."
Reed flinched.
"He was trying to dismantle everything."
"He was trying to return what wasn't ours."
"Nothing belongs to anyone until someone is strong enough to keep it."
Maren felt sick.
But she also knew Evelyn's team now had the confession.
Reed asked, "Did you poison him?"
Celeste looked at her son.
"Would it matter if I said yes?"
Reed's face crumpled.
For perhaps the first time in his life, he was not performing.
"Yes."
Celeste almost looked disappointed.
"Then yes."
A tiny green light blinked on Maren's phone.
Transmission confirmed.
Reed stumbled backward.
Celeste continued.
"He was going to destroy your inheritance."
"So you murdered him."
"I protected you."
"No."
Reed's voice broke.
"You protected yourself."
Celeste slapped him.
Maren had never seen Reed look like a child until that moment.
Celeste reached for his pocket.
He pushed her away.
She hit the edge of the desk.
A framed photograph fell and shattered.
Celeste stared at the broken glass.
Then at Maren.
"Do you really think Evelyn is coming to save you?"
Maren said nothing.
Celeste smiled.
"She had opportunities."
Maren's pulse shifted.
"What does that mean?"
Celeste walked to a cabinet.
Reed warned, "Mom."
She opened it.
Inside was a thick envelope.
Celeste threw it onto Maren's lap.
"Read."
Maren opened it.
Letters.
Dozens.
Written over decades.
All addressed to Maren.
Birthday letters.
Christmas letters.
Letters describing Evelyn's search.
Maren's hands began shaking.
Celeste had them.
"You intercepted these?"
"Some."
"How?"
"Your adoptive agency forwarded inquiries through legal channels."
Maren could barely breathe.
"You knew she was looking."
"Of course."
Every part of Maren wanted to scream.
Instead she folded the letters carefully.
"Thank you."
Celeste blinked.
"For what?"
"For giving me more evidence."
Sirens sounded faintly outside.
Celeste looked toward the windows.
Her face changed.
Reed whispered, "What did you do?"
Maren met Celeste's eyes.
"I stopped being alone."
Celeste moved toward the door.
It opened before she reached it.
Two Blackthorne agents entered.
Behind them came Marcus.
Celeste stepped back.
Then another figure appeared.
Evelyn.
The two women faced each other for the first time in thirty three years.
Celeste recovered first.
"Evelyn."
Evelyn looked at the letters in Maren's lap.
Then at Celeste.
"You kept them."
Celeste's chin lifted.
"I kept everything."
Evelyn's expression became terrifyingly calm.
"Good."
"Why?"
"Because people like you always think evidence is a trophy."
Police vehicles entered the driveway.
Celeste finally understood.
The house she had controlled for three decades was no longer hers.
But as detectives approached the study, Celeste leaned toward Maren.
"This isn't finished."
Maren stared back.
"It is for Harrison."
Celeste smiled faintly.
"No."
May you like
Her eyes moved toward Reed.
"You still don't know what your husband put in your medical file."
