Chapter 13 - Julia
Mara’s sister Julia came to my house after the USB contents were authenticated.
We had barely spoken in a year.
She looked at Otis sitting on the living-room chair.
Then at me.
“You found it.”
“You knew?”
“No.”
That surprised me.
“Mara told me she made a backup.”
“Did she tell you where?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Julia stared.
“I tried to tell you she had concerns about Vanessa.”
“You said care account.”
“And you stopped calling me.”
Fair.
“I asked Vanessa.”
Julia laughed bitterly.
“Of course you did.”
“I asked the accountant too.”
“He reviewed totals.”
“Yes.”
“Mara was worried about transactions.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“How much did you know?”
“She told me Vanessa used the laundry room as a timeout once.”
“And?”
“I told her to fire her.”
“Why didn’t Mara?”
“She needed help.”
There again.
Dependency.
Julia continued:
“Mara was ashamed she needed somebody she didn’t fully trust.”
“Why didn’t you help more?”
That was cruel.
Julia’s face hardened.
“I lived three hours away with twins and a mother-in-law dying of dementia.”
I closed my eyes.
“Sorry.”
“Good.”
Then:
“I also thought Mara might be overreacting about the money.”
There.
No perfect witness.
“She was on steroids. She was anxious. She lost receipts herself. I believed the discipline concern more than the financial one.”
“Did she plan to tell me?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After her follow-up appointment.”
She died three days before it.
I looked at Otis.
Julia whispered:
“She wasn’t trying to leave you a treasure hunt, Ryan.”
“I know.”
“She was trying to buy herself time.”
That sentence mattered.
People romanticize messages left by the dead.
Mara had not designed a posthumous reveal.
May you like
She had procrastinated an unbearable conversation.
Then time ended.
