Chapter 3 - MY MOTHER’S PRICE FOR SILENCE
Chloe was arrested before I left the hospital.
She was charged initially with aggravated assault and tampering with evidence. The district attorney made it clear that the charges could become more serious depending on what investigators learned.
Trent hired a criminal defense attorney before he called to ask whether I was recovering.
My mother arrived at the hospital carrying white roses.
Security stopped her in the lobby.
She demanded to see me until I agreed to meet her in a consultation room with Julian and my attorney present.
Mom entered wearing oversized sunglasses and a cream-colored coat. She looked less like a frightened mother than a celebrity trying to avoid photographers.
She placed the flowers on the table.
“You’ve made your point,” she said.
I looked at the roses.
“What point was that?”
“That you have influential friends.”
Julian remained by the door.
My attorney, Andrea Holt, opened a notebook.
Mom glanced at both of them.
“Does this need to be an audience?”
“Yes.”
She removed her sunglasses.
Her eyes were swollen, but I could not tell whether she had cried for me or Chloe.
“Your sister is sitting in jail.”
“I was lying in a hospital bed.”
“She did not intend for that to happen.”
“She fed me crab and stole my medication.”
“She removed the injector because she was afraid you would make a scene.”
Andrea’s pen stopped.
“Mrs. Ellis,” she said, “you may wish to consult an attorney before continuing.”
Mom ignored her.
“Maya has used that allergy to control family events since childhood.”
“I use it to avoid dying.”
“Chloe believed the amount was too small to cause a serious reaction.”
“Then why take the injector?”
Mom’s mouth tightened.
“Because you always find a way to embarrass her.”
I stared at the woman who had raised me.
For most of my life, I had assumed my mother favored Chloe because Chloe was easier to understand. She liked dresses, charity luncheons, tennis clubs, and flattering photographs. I preferred noisy kitchens and people who said what they meant.
But this was not ordinary favoritism.
My mother had watched me turn blue and still thought Chloe was the injured party.
“You broke into my office,” I said.
Her expression changed.
“I went to speak with you.”
“At almost ten at night?”
“You weren’t there.”
“So you searched my desk.”
Mom looked toward Julian.
“This is family business.”
“No,” he said. “It became criminal business when your daughter nearly died.”
She turned back to me.
“Chloe found documents showing that your accountants were investigating her charity. She panicked.”
“Because she was stealing from hungry children?”
“She was borrowing money.”
“For three years?”
“The organization had expenses.”
“Her condo is not an expense.”
“You don’t understand the pressure she faces. People expect her to maintain a certain image.”
“Whose expectation?”
Mom looked at me as though the answer were obvious.
“Ours.”
There it was.
Chloe had spent her life performing success because my parents required it.
I had spent mine being punished for succeeding in ways they did not respect.
Andrea slid a photograph across the table. It showed Chloe removing the allergy card in the kitchen.
“Did you know she intended to switch the bowls?” Andrea asked.
Mom stared at the image.
“She said she only wanted Maya to become uncomfortable.”
“Did you take the injector from Ms. Ellis’s coat?”
Silence.
My skin went cold.
“Mom?”
She folded her hands.
“Chloe asked me to hold it.”
“You took it.”
“I did not know she put it in her purse.”
“You knew it was mine.”
“Maya, you always carry another one.”
“And if Julian hadn’t known where it was?”
Her chin trembled.
For one second, she looked afraid.
Then she defended herself again.
“You survived.”
I stood so quickly that my chair struck the wall.
Julian moved toward me, but I lifted a hand.
I did not need to be restrained.
I needed to see my mother clearly.
“You keep saying that like it excuses what you did.”
“I am trying to save this family.”
“No. You’re trying to save Chloe.”
“She needs me.”
“So did I.”
Mom’s face crumpled, but I felt no satisfaction.
“I was your child too,” I said. “I was eleven when she first put shellfish in my food. You told me not to ruin her future over one mistake. Last night, you watched her do it again.”
“She was desperate.”
“Why?”
Mom looked at Andrea, then at Julian.
“May I speak to my daughter alone?”
“No,” I said.
She took a long breath.
“Trent’s company is collapsing. He used Chloe’s charity to move money and cover investor losses. When your audit began, he told her they could both go to prison.”
“That explains fraud. It doesn’t explain trying to kill me.”
“They wanted to frighten you into stopping the review.”
“By causing an allergic reaction?”
“Chloe planned to save you.”
The room went silent.
“What?”
Mom’s voice became smaller.
“She was supposed to wait until everyone saw you struggling. Then she would use the injector. She thought it would make her look heroic and make you look unstable for accusing her afterward.”
I felt the floor tilt beneath me.
That was the twist behind the cruelty.
Chloe had not expected me to die.
She had expected to control when I lived.
She wanted donors, photographers, and Julian Cross to watch her rescue the pathetic sister who had disrupted her gala.
But when I collapsed, she had waited too long.
She had enjoyed it.
“Why didn’t she help me?” I asked.
Mom began to cry.
“Trent told her to wait until the photographer returned.”
My stomach turned.
“And you knew the plan?”
“Not all of it.”
“How much?”
She did not answer.
Andrea closed her notebook.
“Mrs. Ellis, this meeting is over.”
Mom reached across the table for me.
“Maya, please. I already lost one daughter last night.”
I stepped away from her hand.
“No. You chose one daughter last night.”
Two detectives were waiting outside the consultation room.
They entered as soon as Andrea opened the door.
My mother looked from their badges to my face.
“You called the police on me?”
“I didn’t have to.”
Julian nodded toward the security camera in the corner.
“The room records audio.”
May you like
For the first time in my life, my mother had spoken about me as though I were invisible.
This time, the room had listened.
