Chapter 10
I went to see Jessica one last time.
Mark offered to come with me.
But I told him no.
This was something I needed to do alone.
I needed to face her.
To close this chapter.
To move on.
Completely.
The prison was cold.
Sterile.
Depressing.
Jessica was brought into the visiting room.
She looked terrible.
Her hair was dull.
Her skin was pale.
She'd lost weight.
Her eyes were empty.
Dead.
She sat down across from me.
She didn't smile.
She didn't sneer.
She just looked at me.
Empty.
"Brooke," she said. Her voice was flat.
"Jessica."
"What do you want? To gloat? To tell me how happy you are? How perfect your life is?"
"Something like that," I said. "I wanted you to know. I adopted Lily. Legally. She's my daughter now. Forever. And we had another baby. Grace. She's beautiful. Perfect. Mark and I are happier than ever. The foundation we started in your name has helped thousands of people. Your evil has created something good. Something that will outlast you. Something that will help people long after you're dead and forgotten."
She stared at me.
No reaction.
"You lost, Jessica," I said. "You lost everything. Your daughter. Your freedom. Your life. And you have no one to blame but yourself. You did this. All of it. You abandoned your daughter. You tried to frame me. You tried to destroy Mark. You tried to destroy our family. And you failed. Completely. And now you're going to die in here. Alone. With nothing. Nobody cares about you. Nobody visits you. Nobody loves you. You're nothing. Less than nothing."
She was still quiet.
Then she spoke.
Softly.
Almost too quiet to hear.
"I was jealous of you," she said. "You always had everything. Mom and Dad loved you more. You were smarter. Prettier. More responsible. Everyone loved you. And I hated you for it. I wanted what you had. I wanted to be you. And when I couldn't be, I decided to take everything from you. To destroy you. To make you feel as small and worthless as I always felt."
She looked up at me.
Tears in her eyes.
Real tears.
For the first time.
"I'm sorry," she said. "For everything. For Lily. For you. For Mark. For all of it. I was wrong. I was evil. And I deserve everything that's happened to me. I'm going to die in here. Alone. And I know that. And I'm sorry."
I stared at her.
This woman who'd caused so much pain.
Who'd destroyed so many lives.
Including her own.
And she was apologizing.
Finally.
I didn't forgive her.
I couldn't.
Not for what she'd done to Lily.
Not for what she'd tried to do to me.
Not for everything.
But I didn't hate her anymore.
Hate took too much energy.
And I was done giving her any part of me.
"I don't forgive you," I said. "And I never will. But I don't hate you either. You're just… nothing. To me. To my family. To everyone. You're nothing. And that's the worst punishment of all."
I stood up.
"Goodbye, Jessica. I'll never see you again. I'll never think of you again. You're gone from my life. Forever."
I turned and walked away.
She didn't call after me.
She didn't say anything.
She just sat there.
Empty.
Alone.
Forever.
I walked out into the sunlight.
I took a deep breath.
And I felt truly free.
Free of Jessica.
Free of the past.
Free of everything.
I got in my car.
And I drove home.
To my husband.
To my daughters.
To my perfect life.
And I never looked back.
The years passed.
Happy years.
Full years.
Lily grew up.
Beautiful.
Smart.
Kind.
She became a social worker.
Just like she'd always wanted.
She worked with children in foster care.
She helped them find homes.
Find love.
Find families.
She turned her pain into something beautiful.
Something that helped others.
Grace grew up too.
She was smart.
Funny.
Full of life.
She became a doctor.
A pediatrician.
She took care of children.
Made them better.
Made them smile.
She was the light of our lives.
Mark and I grew old together.
Happily.
Lovingly.
We traveled.
We spent time with our children.
With our grandchildren.
Lily had three children of her own.
Grace had two.
Five grandchildren.
Perfect.
Beautiful.
Full of life.
We were the happiest family I could imagine.
The house was always full.
Always busy.
Always full of love and laughter.
The foundation continued to grow.
To help more people.
To make more of a difference.
The book I wrote about our story became a bestseller.
*Left at the Gate: How My Niece Saved My Life.*
It helped thousands of people.
Gave them hope.
Courage.
Strength.
I spoke at events.
At conferences.
At fundraisers.
I told our story.
Over and over.
To anyone who needed to hear it.
To anyone who needed hope.
I was seventy years old when I finally retired.
Mark and I moved to the coast.
To a small cottage.
By the ocean.
Not Maui.
But somewhere better.
Because we were together.
Our children visited often.
Our grandchildren visited even more.
We were happy.
Truly happy.
And then, one day, Mark passed away.
Peacefully.
In his sleep.
Holding my hand.
We'd been married for thirty-five wonderful years.
I was heartbroken.
But I was also grateful.
Grateful for every moment we'd had together.
Grateful for the life we'd built.
Grateful for the love we'd shared.
I lived on.
Strong.
Happy.
Surrounded by family and friends.
And when I thought of Mark, I didn't cry.
I smiled.
Because I knew I'd see him again.
Someday.
And when I did, he'd be waiting for me.
With Lily.
And Grace.
And all the people I loved.
And everything would be perfect.
Forever.
But there's one more chapter.
One more perspective.
One that will show you how it all looked through Lily's eyes.
May you like
The little girl who was left at the airport.
And found a family.
