Chapter 9 - AFTER MAYA DIES
The document was twelve pages.
I read four.
Then stopped.
I couldn't stomach the rest.
David had planned my funeral.
Not details like flowers.
Financial timing.
When the life insurance would pay.
When the mansion would be sold.
When Northstar accounts would be consolidated.
When Lily would be relocated.
That word.
Relocated.
Month Two.
Boarding school placement.
Switzerland.
Month Three.
Media narrative stabilization.
Month Six.
Permanent international residence.
I felt sick.
"He wrote this?"
Nathan nodded.
"Some sections appear to be prepared by Elliot."
"But David made notes."
"Yes."
In David's handwriting:
TOO SOON.
WAIT UNTIL AFTER MEMORIAL.
Another note.
LILY WILL RESIST.
Then another.
DON'T LET MAYA'S SISTER INTERFERE.
I stared.
"He planned to cut my family out too."
Nathan nodded.
"Probably."
I closed the folder.
"I want to see him."
This time nobody stopped me.
David walked into the room already knowing.
"They found the house."
"Yes."
He sat.
I placed the plan against the glass.
"You planned my funeral."
"It wasn't final."
I stared at him.
"That's your defense?"
"Maya."
"You scheduled how long you'd pretend to grieve."
"It was risk planning."
I almost laughed.
"You really are incapable of hearing yourself."
David looked down.
"I wasn't going to kill you."
"No."
I nodded.
"You were just willing to profit if I died."
He said nothing.
"And Lily?"
His eyes filled.
"I was never going to hurt her."
"You were going to ship her to another country."
"For school."
"She was seven."
"Eventually."
"How long after my funeral did you want to wait?"
He looked away.
"Two months?"
Silence.
"One?"
No answer.
I leaned forward.
"How long?"
His voice became tiny.
"Six weeks."
I closed my eyes.
Six weeks.
Six weeks after burying her mother, David planned to put Lily on an airplane and send her away.
"Why?"
He started crying.
"I didn't know how to be alone with her."
That was the first truly honest thing he had said.
I looked at him.
He continued.
"She loved you more."
"She was a child."
"I know."
"She needed both of us."
"I know."
"You were jealous of your own daughter?"
"No."
"Then what?"
David wiped his face.
"I felt trapped."
The word hit me harder than I expected.
"By us?"
He didn't answer.
"Say it."
"Maya."
"Say it."
He stared at me.
"Yes."
There.
Fifteen years reduced to one word.
Yes.
I nodded slowly.
"Thank you."
He looked confused.
"For what?"
"For finally telling the truth."
I stood.
He panicked.
"Maya."
I turned.
"Was she scared?"
My heart stopped.
He swallowed.
"When she died."
I stared at him.
The truthful answer was yes.
She was terrified.
She had cried.
She asked whether she was going to die.
She asked for David.
She asked whether I was scared too.
I had lied.
"No, baby."
"I'm right here."
I looked at the man behind the glass.
He deserved the truth.
But Lily deserved dignity more.
"No."
David started crying.
"She was holding my hand."
I continued.
"I told her she was loved."
His shoulders shook.
"I told her she wasn't alone."
David covered his face.
I walked toward the door.
Behind me, he whispered, "Did she forgive me?"
I stopped.
May you like
"I never told her she had anything to forgive."
Then I left.
