Chapter 6 - My Father Had Put It in Writing
Priya obtained the relevant public and discoverable records through proper channels.
Frank had signed a written statement during the previous licensing review.
He said he was present in the Little Pines activity room during the time Melissa alleged Bethany used inappropriate discipline.
He stated:
At no time did I observe Bethany place any object on Ava Grant’s body or direct another adult to do so.
Linda signed a separate statement.
Hers said she had entered the room shortly afterward and saw no distress suggesting inappropriate physical discipline.
Both statements supported Bethany.
Eleven months later, Rosie’s account created a problem.
She said Frank walked into the room during her “bravery game.”
She said he told her to stop crying.
She said Linda later told everyone not to tell me.
Same category of conduct.
Same family.
Same clips.
Same attempt to contain the story.
“Maybe Dad truly didn’t see what happened to Ava,” I said.
Priya nodded.
“Possible.”
“Maybe he was telling the truth then and lying now.”
“Possible.”
“You enjoy possibilities.”
“They keep clients from committing defamation.”
Fair.
The family split grew.
Aunt Denise called me crying.
“Your father says investigators are interviewing employees.”
“Good.”
“Ryan.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Little Pines employs people.”
“Rosie is four.”
“Nobody thinks Rosie should’ve been hurt.”
“Then stop attaching ‘but’ to it.”
Denise hung up.
Cousin Matt sent:
You did the right thing leaving.
Then:
Please don’t tell Uncle Frank I said that.
I stared at the message.
This was how Frank maintained authority.
Not because everyone agreed.
Because everyone preferred avoiding the cost of disagreeing openly.
I had done it too.
Linda asked to meet without Frank.
Priya said I could if I wanted, but not to discuss active investigative details or promise anything.
We met at a Panera.
Mom looked exhausted.
“Your father doesn’t know I’m here.”
“That’s becoming a pattern.”
She flinched.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Rosie.”
“Be specific.”
Linda looked at me.
“I saw her crying after Bethany had those clips.”
My hands tightened.
“When?”
“At the party.”
“Before I found her?”
“Yes.”
“And you let her go upstairs alone?”
Tears filled Mom’s eyes.
“She ran.”
“You knew she was hurt.”
“I didn’t realize her face—”
“Her arms.”
Mom looked down.
“I saw the marks.”
My chest hurt.
“What did you do?”
“I told Bethany she had crossed a line.”
“And?”
“Your father came in.”
“And?”
“He said nobody was ruining his birthday over another Bethany misunderstanding.”
I laughed once.
It sounded ugly.
“So you went downstairs and cut cake.”
Linda started crying.
“Yes.”
I stared at my mother.
“Why?”
“Because every time I have stood against him over Bethany, everything gets worse.”
“For whom?”
She had no answer.
“Did Dad know about the clips before the party?”
“He knew Bethany still had some.”
“Did you?”
She nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell licensing after the first complaint?”
“Because Frank had already signed the statement.”
“That doesn’t answer it.”
“If we admitted the clips were still being used, it would look like we lied.”
There it was.
Not protecting Bethany from one mistake.
Protecting themselves from admitting the first response had been false.
“Did you lie?”
Linda’s voice shook.
“I left things out.”
“Mom.”
“Yes.”
The word broke something between us.
She had spent eleven months pretending she defended Bethany because she believed her.
May you like
She hadn’t.
She defended Bethany because correcting the story later would implicate Linda too.
Related Stories
