Chương 15
“What would he have to say?” Sam asked.
“He would enter a guilty plea and acknowledge a factual account in court.”
“Would he have to say he killed her?”
“No.”
“Would he say he changed the pills?”
“The agreement requires him to admit that he gave her medication inconsistent with her treatment instructions on multiple occasions.”
Eleanor looked at the prosecutor.
“That is changing the pills.”
“He may describe it as following what he believed she needed.”
“He will still lie.”
“He will accept legal responsibility for specific actions.”
Sam stared at the table.
“What happens if we say no?”
“The decision is ultimately ours, but your views matter. We proceed to trial. Some charges may result in conviction. Others may not. You and your grandmother would testify. Portions of Audrey’s medical history, messages, and recordings would become public.”
“All of them?” Sam asked.
“Potentially many.”
The room became quiet.
Arthur had built his defense around Audrey’s instability. At trial, his attorneys would show frightened messages, confused statements, missed appointments, angry voicemails, and contradictions. They would transform symptoms into doubt and doubt into character.
Eleanor had wanted the truth exposed.
She had not considered how much of Audrey would be stripped bare to expose it.
That evening, she and Sam sat at the kitchen table without June.
The house sounded different when June was not there. Pipes clicked. The refrigerator made a low knocking sound. Someone’s dog barked along the block.
“What do you think?” Eleanor asked.
Sam spun the watch around his wrist.
“I think Dad should say he killed her.”
“He may never say that.”
“Then the deal is fake.”
“It is not fake.”
“It lets him choose the words.”
“Yes.”
“He always chooses the words.”
Eleanor watched the second hand move.
“At trial, his lawyer will choose words too.”
“At least people will hear Mom’s recordings.”
“They will hear everything.”
“Maybe they should.”
“Your mother kept some things private.”
“She’s dead.”
Eleanor flinched at hearing her own old argument returned to her.
Sam saw it.
“Sorry,” he said.
“No. You showed me what it sounds like.”
He rested both arms on the table.
“What would Mom want?”
“I have been using that question to disguise my own wishes for months.”
“So you don’t know.”
“No.”
Sam removed the watch and set it between them.
“She wanted people to believe her.”
“Yes.”
“Does the deal mean they do?”
“It means Arthur admits enough of what she said was true.”
“Not all.”
“No.”
Sam looked toward the dark window.
“I don’t want strangers reading the messages she sent when she was sick.”
“Neither do I.”
“I also don’t want Dad telling himself he only made mistakes.”
“He may tell himself that no matter what happens.”
Sam’s mouth tightened.
“That’s the worst part.”
“Yes.”
The next week, Eleanor asked to meet Arthur.
His attorney objected. The prosecutor discouraged it. Ortiz called it a bad idea in three separate ways.
Arthur agreed.
They met in a monitored room at his lawyer’s office. A camera was visible in the corner. Their attorneys sat outside the glass partition but could enter if necessary.
Arthur wore a navy suit. He had lost weight. The handsome ease had thinned from his face, leaving harder lines around his mouth.
Eleanor remained standing until he sat.
“You look like Audrey,” he said.
“No, I do not.”
“More than you think.”
“Do not use her to make this intimate.”
He leaned back.
“You asked to see me.”
“I want to know what happened during the forty-nine minutes.”
Arthur looked toward the camera.
“You know what the reports say.”
“I know what you photographed, searched, moved, and canceled.”
“She was conscious.”
“Was she speaking?”
“At first.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me not to call.”
“Why?”
“She hated hospitals. You know that.”
“She pressed the alert.”
“By accident.”
“You gave the service her PIN.”
“I managed the account.”
“You said she was resting.”
“She was breathing.”
“That is not rest.”
His fingers tightened on the chair arm.
“You want me to be a monster because then you do not have to ask where you were.”
The words hurt because he had earned the right to use them only by learning where she was weak.
“I ask myself every day.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“You ignored her. Hayes ignored her. The board ignored her. But I was there, so everything becomes mine.”
“You were there.”
“I bathed her when she could not stand. I cleaned vomit from the bed. I slept three hours a night. I watched her call me a thief and then ask me to hold her hand.”
“You were a thief.”
“I borrowed money from a project that was going to collapse.”
“You forged records.”
“I corrected records because she kept changing her mind.”
“You changed her medication.”
“I adjusted doses she had taken before.”
“Without permission.”
“She refused what helped because she thought every pill belonged to some conspiracy.”
“She was afraid of you.”
“She was afraid of everyone.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“Did you love her?”
Arthur’s face shifted, not dramatically. His eyes lowered, and his breath left slowly.
“Yes.”
“Then why did you wait?”
He rubbed his thumb against the side of his index finger, a gesture Eleanor had seen at dinners when he calculated whether to lie.
“She had the letter,” he said.
Eleanor remained still.
“What letter?”
“The one to you. She told me she had proof somewhere. She said if I called an ambulance, she would tell them I drugged her.”
“So you searched her phone.”
“I needed to know what she had sent.”
“While she was on the floor.”
“She was breathing.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because she was.”
“Did she ask for help?”
Arthur looked toward the glass.
“Did she?” Eleanor repeated.
His eyes returned to hers.
“She said my name.”
The room seemed to lose air.
“How?”
“What do you mean?”
“Was she angry? Frightened? Did she ask you to come closer?”
May you like
“I don’t remember.”
“You remember the search you performed at ten-twelve.”
