Chapter 9 - The Daughter Margaret Chose
Carla asked to see me.
Her attorney arranged it.
We sat across from each other at a table inside the county jail.
She looked twenty years older than she had the previous night.
“Austin.”
I didn't answer.
“Is Irene okay?”
“Yes.”
“And the baby?”
“Yes.”
She started crying.
I felt nothing.
That frightened me more than anger would have.
“I didn't mean for Mom to hurt her.”
“You brought a hammer.”
“For the safe.”
“That's supposed to help?”
“No.”
“Why were you there?”
“Because Marcus said Irene was going to turn everything over.”
“She was.”
“I panicked.”
“You could have called me.”
“You were leaving the country.”
“You could have called anyway.”
Carla looked down.
“I thought you'd choose her.”
I stared at my sister.
“She is my wife.”
“I know.”
“She is carrying my child.”
“I know.”
“Of course I would choose her safety.”
Carla wiped her face.
“You always choose the person who needs you least.”
That sentence revealed a lifetime.
Carla had always been the chaotic one.
Broken relationships.
Bad investments.
Emergency phone calls.
I rescued her because she needed rescue.
Eventually she decided rescue was love.
And boundaries were betrayal.
“Why Desert Crown?”
“Mason had a good plan.”
“Mason had PowerPoint slides.”
“It wasn't like that at first.”
“How much did you lose?”
She whispered:
“Everything.”
“How much did you borrow?”
“Four point six.”
“You told me four hundred thousand.”
“I was ashamed.”
“So you let Mom steal from the company?”
“I didn't know at first.”
“When did you know?”
“Later.”
“How much later?”
“About a year.”
“And then?”
“I wanted out.”
“Did you return the money?”
“No.”
“Did you tell me?”
“No.”
“Dad?”
She looked away.
“He knew.”
“Yes.”
“Mom told me he was going to cut me off.”
“He was.”
Carla started crying again.
“He said he was going to the police.”
“He should have.”
“He was my father.”
“And you committed crimes.”
Her expression turned angry.
“You have always had everything.”
There it was.
The same poison.
“You got the company.”
“Because I worked there.”
“You got Dad's respect.”
“Because I stopped asking him to solve my problems.”
“You got the house.”
“I bought Mom a house.”
“You got—”
“Enough.”
I leaned forward.
“You had parents who loved you. Education without debt. Millions in inheritance. Every opportunity I had except the ones I created by working.”
She looked away.
“You didn't get cheated, Carla.”
Her eyes filled.
“You made bad choices.”
That landed harder than any accusation.
Then I asked about Dad.
“What happened the night he died?”
She went still.
“I wasn't there.”
“I know.”
“Why are you asking?”
“Did Mom ever tell you she delayed calling 911?”
Carla's face emptied.
“What?”
I watched carefully.
She didn't know.
“Dad collapsed while Mom and Marcus were there.”
“No.”
“Mom searched his office before calling for help.”
“No.”
“She was looking for evidence against you.”
“No.”
“Carla.”
“She called me from the hospital.”
“She lied.”
“No.”
“She let him lie on the floor because she wanted a letter protecting you.”
Carla stood.
“That is not true.”
Her chair scraped backward.
A guard approached.
“She wouldn't do that.”
“She did.”
“You hate her now.”
“I have witnesses.”
Carla shook her head violently.
“No.”
“Dad's smartwatch records the time.”
“Stop.”
“Thirty-three minutes.”
“STOP!”
The guard moved closer.
Carla collapsed into the chair.
For several seconds she simply stared.
Then she whispered:
“She told me Dad died because of stress I caused.”
I said nothing.
“She told me if I hadn't failed, he would still be alive.”
My anger shifted.
Margaret had used Dad's death to control Carla too.
“She told me I owed her.”
“For what?”
“For protecting me.”
I finally understood the bond between them.
It wasn't simply favoritism.
It was guilt.
Margaret had spent three years reminding Carla that Dad died while trying to save her.
She never told Carla the most important part.
Margaret had chosen documents over the ambulance.
“What did she make you do?”
Carla looked at me.
“Everything.”
“Be specific.”
“She said if Desert Crown ever came out, we had to protect Dad's reputation.”
“By committing more fraud.”
“She said exposing it would make Dad look corrupt.”
“Convenient.”
“I know.”
“Why attack Irene?”
“Mom said Irene was trying to destroy his name.”
“And you believed her.”
Carla looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
“Did Marcus tell you that too?”
“Yes.”
“Where is the blue folder?”
“I don't know.”
“You told me to find it before Marcus.”
“Because he was there before us.”
“Did you see him take it?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“He was looking for the Phoenix letter.”
“What is that?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
She leaned forward.
“Mom always called it the Phoenix letter.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“What did Marcus say about it?”
Carla swallowed.
“He said if Dad's original ever surfaced, somebody would go to prison for the rest of his life.”
“Who?”
“He never said.”
I thought of Margaret.
Marcus.
Mason.
Then Carla said something unexpected.
“I don't think he meant any of them.”
I stared at her.
“Then who?”
“My father.”
Dad was dead.
“What could Dad go to prison for?”
May you like
Carla whispered:
“Maybe that's why Mom needed the letter first.”
