Chapter 8
Dean Mercer had called Margaret immediately after the crash.
Rafe knew because he heard part of the call.
That was the next betrayal.
“What did he say?”
Rafe looked like he wanted to disappear.
I did not allow it.
“Say it.”
“He said the car went off the road.”
“And?”
“He said Emily was alive.”
My chest tightened.
“Sarah?”
A pause.
“Also alive.”
The workshop became very quiet.
I stared at him.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Rafe.”
“He said she was conscious when he reached the car.”
I had to sit.
Every version of Sarah’s death I had lived with changed again.
“What did Margaret tell him?”
Rafe’s voice dropped.
“To bring Emily out first.”
Reasonable.
A child.
Then?
“Then she told him to wait.”
I looked up.
“What?”
Rafe’s face broke.
“She said Sarah needed to understand what happens when she runs from the family.”
I could not hear anything for a moment.
“How long?”
“Maybe fifteen minutes.”
Fifteen.
Maybe less.
Maybe more.
I did not need a perfect number for horror to exist.
“Did he call for medical help?”
“Eventually.”
Eventually.
That word should never belong beside a dying person.
Rafe continued quickly.
Dean insisted Sarah was talking at first. Asking for me. Asking whether Emily was safe.
Margaret arrived before the ambulance.
She spoke to Sarah.
No one knew what was said.
Then Sarah lost consciousness.
I stared at the wooden swallow.
My mother might not have caused the crash directly.
But she used the aftermath as punishment.
A lesson.
Exactly the same logic that later put a chain inside Emily’s medical brace.
Obedience first.
Safety second.
I understood the pattern.
Margaret did not see herself as cruel.
She saw herself as correcting people before helping them.
That was worse.
Then I remembered Emily’s first words after Dr. Pierce cut the brace.
Do I have permission to breathe now?
My daughter had learned the family philosophy perfectly.
Basic things came after obedience.
I stood.
“Bring Margaret to the workshop.”
Rafe hesitated.
I looked at him.
“Not for revenge.”
That surprised him.
I picked up Sarah’s recorder.
May you like
“For truth.”
This time, nobody was going to edit what happened before it reached me.
