Chapter 6 - An Olive Branch of Glass
We led Susan into the living room and sat her down on the floral sofa where Hazel usually built blanket forts.
I brought her a glass of water, which she took with hands that shook so violently she spilled a few drops onto her wristwatch. She looked smaller than usual, as if the deflation of her family’s carefully guarded illusion had physically shrunk her.
"Frank and I had a terrible fight today," Susan said softly, staring down into the glass of water.
Aaron sat on the coffee table facing her, his elbows resting on his knees. "About what, Mom? Dad made his decision legally. Monica crossed the line."
"I know she crossed the line," Susan whispered, looking up, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. "I’m not here to defend Monica. God knows I can't defend her anymore. But... she’s my daughter, Aaron. And she’s drowning."
I stood by the doorway, my arms crossed over my chest. I didn't feel anger toward Susan, but I felt a cautious distance. "She’s drowning because she built a boat out of stolen money, Susan. You can't blame the water for rising when you pull the plug yourself."
Susan flinched at my words, but she didn't snap back. She simply nodded slowly.
"You're right, Rachel. You're entirely right," Susan conceded, her voice breaking. "And that’s why I’m here. Not to ask you to change Frank’s mind about the will—that’s done. Monica has to face the consequences of what she did. But I’m here to ask for Ava."
"Ava is safe here," Aaron said firmly. "She doesn't want to go back right now, Mom. You saw the text messages. Monica called her a traitor."
"I know," Susan said, a tear finally escaping and cutting a path down her cheek. "Monica is furious, and she’s lashing out at everyone—at Greg, at me, at Frank, and most of all at Ava. But... Monica is also cracking. She’s threatening to pack up and leave the state, take Ava with her, and never let us see her again."
My blood ran cold. "She wouldn't do that. Ava is a minor; Greg has joint custody rights."
"Greg won't stand up to her," Susan shook her head bitterly. "He’s as spineless as they come when it comes to Monica’s tempers. If Monica decides to pack up their remaining savings and drive cross-country, Greg will help her load the car."
"Not if Ava refuses to go," Aaron said. "And legally, if we file for temporary guardianship based on emotional endangerment—"
"No," Susan interrupted, raising a trembling hand. "No more legal battles, Aaron. That’s what Monica wants. She wants a war so she can play the victim. She wants to drag this family through the mud until everyone is covered in the same filth."
She turned her gaze back to me, and for the first time in nine years, I saw something in Susan’s eyes that wasn't defensiveness, or fatigue, or maternal bias.
I saw respect.
"Rachel," Susan said, her voice steadying. "When you found those discrepancies two years ago, you could have ruined our family instantly. You could have called the police, notified the bank, and had Monica arrested on the spot. You didn't. You kept quiet, you protected Frank’s dignity, and you tried to keep the peace even when Monica was treating you like dirt."
I didn't say anything. I simply waited.
"I never thanked you for that," Susan continued. "I was too proud, and I was too scared of what people would say. I let Monica walk all over you because I thought protecting her meant attacking you. I was wrong. I was cowardly."
She reached out, her fingers trembling as she touched the sleeve of my blouse.
"Let Ava stay with you for the summer," Susan pleaded. "Let her finish out the school term here in your district. We’ll handle Monica. Frank and I are cutting off their monthly grocery stipends, and Greg’s law firm is launching an internal audit of their joint real estate accounts. They are going to lose the big house, Aaron. They’re going to have to downsize into a two-bedroom apartment across town. Once reality hits them, Monica won't have the energy to fight anyone anymore."
Aaron looked at me, silently asking for my verdict.
I looked down at Susan, seeing the broken matriarch of a family that had spent decades pretending perfection while rotting from the inside out.
May you like
"She can stay as long as she wants," I said clearly. "And she doesn't have to hide in the guest room. We'll set up the spare bedroom properly. But Susan—if Monica steps foot on this property and starts screaming, I won't call Aaron. I’ll call the police myself."
Susan let out a long, shuddering breath of relief, sagging back against the sofa cushions. "Fair enough," she whispered. "More than fair."
