Chapter 15 - The Sister’s Choice
A week after Patricia’s extortion attempt was handed over to the state prosecutor, an unexpected visitor turned up at my workplace.
I was finishing a client presentation at the design studio when the front desk called to tell me a young woman was waiting in the lobby. I walked out expecting a late client, but found Madison standing near the display sofas.
She looked entirely different from the manic, cruel girl who had filmed Ethan on our porch or spray-painted our garage. Her hair was unstyled, she wore a faded work uniform from a local grocery store, and she carried a worn cloth bag.
When she saw me, she flinched slightly, stepping back as if expecting me to yell at her.
“Claire,” she said softly, her voice raspy. “I... I asked the receptionist if I could speak to you for five minutes. If you want me to leave, I’ll leave right now.”
I crossed my arms, maintaining a safe distance. “What are you doing here, Madison? You’re violating your probation terms just being near me.”
“I know,” Madison said quickly, looking down at her shoes. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I swear. I walked three miles from the bus stop because... because I didn't know who else to go to.”
“You have uncles. You have friends,” I said coldly.
“Uncle Mark blocked my number three months ago,” Madison said, her eyes welling with genuine tears. “And my 'friends' vanished the second I couldn't afford to pay for bottle service at the clubs anymore. Claire... Mom called me from prison yesterday.”
I remained silent, watching her carefully.
“She told me to go into her safety deposit box at the downtown bank,” Madison continued, her voice trembling. “She gave me the key she’d hidden in her old sewing kit. She told me there were papers inside that could 'destroy Ethan' and force him to give us money. She told me to take them to the local news station.”
I felt a cold chill run down my spine, but kept my face completely emotionless. “And did you?”
Madison reached into her cloth bag and pulled out a thick, black leather-bound ledger along with a folder of yellowed documents.
She held them out to me with hands that were visibly shaking.
“I took them out of the box an hour ago,” Madison whispered. “I sat on the bus reading through them. It isn't tax evasion stuff, Claire. It’s... it’s legal documents showing Mom took out life insurance policies on Dad and Ethan five years ago without their knowledge, using fake signatures.”
My heart stopped.
“Why are you giving this to me, Madison?” I asked softly.
Madison wiped a tear from her cheek, her shoulder shaking. “Because when I was sitting in that jail cell after spray-painting your house, Mom didn't call me once. She didn't hire a lawyer for me. She used every dollar she stole from Lily to hire her own attorney. She left me to rot.”
She stepped forward and set the ledger on the coffee table between us.
“I realized that Mom doesn't love me,” Madison sobbed. “She used me to do her dirty work. I ruined my life, my reputation, and my relationship with my brother because I wanted her to love me. I’m so sorry, Claire. I am so, so sorry for what I said to you on Christmas. I was a monster.”
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I looked at the young woman crying in the lobby. The anger I had carried toward her for months didn't instantly disappear, but it shifted into something else: sorrow for a girl who had been raised by a predator.
“Take a seat, Madison,” I said softly, picking up the ledger. “I’m calling Ethan.”
