Part 4: PATRICIA GETS THERE FIRST

The first sign that something was wrong came from Daniel.

I was washing strawberries at the kitchen sink when he walked in holding his phone.

"Did you go back to the store?"

My hands stopped beneath the water.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I'm tired of asking permission to prove something that happened to me."

"I didn't say you need permission."

"You just asked why I didn't tell you."

"That's not the same thing."

I turned off the faucet.

"Who told you?"

He didn't answer quickly enough.

"Your mother?"

"She called."

I laughed.

Of course she had.

"What did she say?"

"She said someone from the store contacted her."

"Why would they contact her?"

"I don't know."

"Did you ask?"

"She said they were trying to clarify what happened."

That made no sense.

Patricia hadn't filed a complaint.

I had.

"Who called her?"

"Some security guy, apparently."

"Marcus?"

"I don't know his name."

My chest tightened.

Marcus had seemed trustworthy.

But Patricia had a way of getting inside rooms she wasn't invited into.

"What else did she say?"

Daniel leaned against the counter.

"She said you're trying to turn this into some kind of legal case."

"I'm trying to obtain a recording."

"She says that's because you want to humiliate her."

"I want proof."

"Megan—"

"No."

I dried my hands.

"This is not about humiliation. She locked me in a hot car while I was eight months pregnant."

"You keep saying it like I haven't heard you."

"Because you keep responding like you haven't."

His face hardened.

"And you keep acting like the only possible explanation is that my mother deliberately tried to hurt you."

"I never said she wanted to hurt me."

That stopped him.

"What?"

"I think she wanted to control me."

The words felt clearer than anything I'd said before.

"She wanted to frighten me. She wanted to punish me because I wouldn't give her a key. Maybe she didn't think about what the heat could do. Maybe she didn't care. But she locked me in."

Daniel sat down.

I could see exhaustion in his face.

For one moment, I almost felt sorry for him.

Then he said, "Mom says you threatened to keep her away from the baby."

My pity vanished.

"When?"

"During the argument."

"I didn't."

"She says you told her she'd never be alone with the baby."

"I said she wasn't getting an apartment key."

"She remembers it differently."

"So now her memory counts and mine doesn't?"

"I didn't say that."

I walked away before I said something I couldn't take back.

My phone rang ten minutes later.

It was Kayla.

I had given her my number in case Mr. Bennett returned.

"Hey," she whispered when I answered. "Can you talk?"

"Yes."

"You didn't hear this from me."

My skin prickled.

"Okay."

"That woman came in."

"Patricia?"

"Yesterday."

I gripped the phone.

"What did she want?"

"I don't know exactly. She asked for Marcus."

"Did she talk to him?"

"Yeah. For a while."

"About the footage?"

"I think so."

My mouth went dry.

"Did she see it?"

"I don't know."

Kayla lowered her voice even further.

"But she came back today."

"Today?"

"And she brought an envelope."

I stopped breathing.

"What kind of envelope?"

"White. Thick."

"Did you see what was inside?"

"No."

"Who did she give it to?"

"She tried to give it to Marcus."

Tried.

That word mattered.

"What happened?"

"He wouldn't take it. At least not where I could see. They argued."

"About what?"

"I couldn't hear everything. But she said something like, 'There must be a way to make this easier for everyone.'"

I leaned against the hallway wall.

"Kayla, are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Did Marcus say anything?"

"He told her to leave."

Relief came first.

Then fear.

"Is the footage still there?"

"I don't know."

I called Marcus immediately.

No answer.

I called again.

Voicemail.

Then I called the store.

The employee who answered transferred me to security.

No one picked up.

I left a message.

That evening, Patricia arrived at our apartment.

She didn't knock gently.

She pounded.

Daniel opened the door before I could stop him.

She walked inside carrying a casserole dish.

I almost laughed at the absurdity.

She had tried to trap me inside a car and was now bringing baked ziti.

"I thought you two might need dinner," she said.

I stood near the couch.

"Leave."

Daniel glanced at me.

"Megan."

"No. She leaves."

Patricia's eyes filled instantly.

"You see?"

She looked at Daniel.

"This is what I told you."

I felt rage rise behind my ribs.

"What did you take to the security guard?"

Her tears disappeared.

It happened so quickly I nearly missed it.

"What?"

"The envelope."

Daniel turned toward her.

"What envelope?"

Patricia stared at me.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Kayla saw you."

Her mouth tightened.

"I went to speak with the store because your accusations involve me."

"And the envelope?"

"I brought documents."

"What documents?"

"Insurance information."

Daniel frowned.

"Why would security need insurance information?"

Patricia looked at him sharply.

"I didn't say it was for security."

"You just said—"

"I don't remember exactly who I spoke with."

I almost smiled.

For the first time, her story had cracked.

Not enough.

But a crack.

"Did you offer Marcus money?"

Her face went pale.

Daniel stood straighter.

"Mom?"

"This is insane."

"Answer me."

Patricia turned on me.

"You are obsessed."

"Did you?"

"You are determined to destroy this family over an accident."

"An accident?"

Her lips parted.

I saw it register too late.

Daniel did too.

"You said nothing happened," I whispered.

"I said what you're describing wasn't intentional."

"No. You said I locked myself in."

"I never said that."

"You told Daniel I got inside the car and became hysterical."

"Because you did!"

"Then what was the accident?"

She looked toward the door.

That was when Daniel finally asked the question he should have asked days earlier.

"Mom, did you lock the car?"

Silence.

Patricia's face crumpled.

"I was trying to stop her from driving."

"I wasn't driving!"

"Because you wouldn't listen!"

The room went still.

She had said it.

Not perfectly.

Not completely.

But enough.

Daniel looked at his mother as though he had never seen her before.

Patricia realized what she had done.

Immediately, she changed direction.

"I pressed the lock button automatically."

"You walked away," I said.

"For seconds!"

"You went inside the store."

"I was getting help!"

"You didn't get anyone."

"I was coming back."

"You came back because people were surrounding the car."

"Stop twisting everything!"

Daniel stepped between us.

"Enough."

Patricia froze.

He had never spoken to her that way.

"Daniel."

"You need to go."

Her face changed again.

Not sadness.

Shock.

"You are throwing me out?"

"I need you to leave."

"Because of her?"

"Because I asked you a question and you didn't answer it."

Patricia picked up the casserole.

Her hands shook.

"You will regret letting her do this."

I stared at her.

"I didn't do this."

She looked at me with naked hatred.

Then she left.

Daniel closed the door.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he turned toward me.

"I'm sorry."

I wanted those words to fix something.

They didn't.

"You still don't know whether you believe me."

He looked at the floor.

"I don't know what to think."

"Then find out."

The next morning, I received a voicemail from Marcus.

His voice was low and formal.

"Mrs. Carter, this is Marcus Reed from store security. I think you should come in. Preferably without notifying anyone else."

I listened to it three times.

Then I grabbed my purse.

Because for the first time since Patricia had pressed that button, I knew she was afraid of what existed on those cameras.

And frightened people made mistakes.