Chapter 12
Garrett was indicted in late autumn.
Extortion.
Bribery.
Fraud.
Conspiracy.
His daughter was charged with assault and obstruction connected to the staged incident.
Tiffany cried in court.
This time, cameras were not allowed.
Without an audience, her tears seemed smaller.
She accepted a plea.
Community service.
Probation.
A public apology.
Real this time.
She looked at me when she read it.
“I treated you like you were beneath me because I was jealous and cruel. My father encouraged me, but I chose to hurt you. I am sorry.”
I wanted it to feel bigger.
It did not.
An apology cannot unburn a cheek.
But it can mark the truth.
Garrett refused to plead.
His trial was set for winter.
Before that, my mother’s health worsened.
Hospital visits returned like bad weather.
I sat beside her bed, holding her hand while machines beeped softly.
She looked at me.
“You look tired.”
“I’m fine.”
She squeezed my fingers.
“Don’t lie to me with my own favorite lie.”
I laughed and cried at the same time.
She touched my face.
“I hated your beauty sometimes.”
I froze.
She closed her eyes.
“Not because I hated you. Because I saw how people looked. I knew beauty could become a target, and I couldn’t afford armor for you.”
My tears fell.
“You were my armor.”
“Not enough.”
“Enough to make me stand.”
She smiled weakly.
“Then stand happy too. Not just strong.”
That was harder.
May you like
Strength had become habit.
Happiness still felt risky.
