Chapter 10
I found the birthday gifts next.
Three years of them.
Stored in Helena’s private basement room.
Boxes with Sophie’s name.
A silver rattle from her first birthday.
A dollhouse for her second.
A tiny bracelet for her third.
Never delivered.
I stood surrounded by evidence that I had tried to reach my daughter through the wrong person.
Nora touched the dollhouse box.
“You sent these?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes filled.
“Helena told me you never acknowledged her birthday.”
I felt sick.
Every year, my mother had taken a gift from me and converted it into proof for Nora that I did not care.
Sophie entered with one of my guards.
She saw the boxes.
“Are those mine?”
I crouched.
“Yes.”
“All?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened.
Then she looked at Nora.
“Why didn’t I get them?”
No one answered immediately.
Sophie looked at Helena.
Of course she did.
My mother’s expression hardened.
“You already had toys.”
The room went silent.
Sophie frowned.
“That’s not nice.”
Helena sighed.
“You do not understand.”
Three words used by controlling adults everywhere.
I stood.
“No.”
My voice dropped.
“She understands exactly enough.”
Helena looked at me.
“You were wasting money on a child being raised outside this family.”
“She was outside because you put her there.”
“She was safe.”
Nora laughed.
“Safe?”
She pointed at Sophie’s worn cardigan.
“I worked two jobs.”
Helena shrugged.
“You managed.”
That was the ugliest sentence yet.
Not denial.
Justification.
Nora had survived, therefore the deprivation was acceptable.
I looked at Helena.
“You saw them struggling.”
“Yes.”
“And kept the money.”
“It kept Nora independent.”
Nora stared.
“Starving independence is still control.”
Helena’s face tightened.
For once, she had no answer.
I looked at the unopened gifts.
This was never about money.
Helena had been editing evidence of my love.
May you like
She needed Nora and Sophie to believe I had forgotten them.
Because affection was the one thing her system could not survive.
