Chapter 5 - MOMMY DIDN’T BELIEVE ME
Sarah stopped.
Her daughter was hiding from her.
That hurt more than any accusation.
“Olivia?”
The little girl peeked around Stallone’s leg.
Sarah’s eyes filled.
“Baby…”
She stepped forward.
Olivia backed away.
Stallone raised his hand.
“Give her space.”
Sarah looked at him.
“What happened?”
He held up the blue bracelet.
Sarah stared at it.
Then she looked toward the basement.
Her entire face changed.
“No.”
Olivia whispered, “I told you.”
Sarah covered her mouth.
The room became unbearably quiet.
“I know.”
Olivia’s voice shook.
“You said Grandma wouldn’t do that.”
Sarah began crying.
“I know.”
“You said I had a big imagination.”
Sarah’s knees nearly gave out.
Stallone looked away.
He had spent his life thinking apologies repaired things.
Some did.
Some only proved you understood the size of what you had broken.
Sarah knelt several feet from her daughter.
“I was wrong.”
Olivia watched her.
“I should have believed you.”
No excuses.
No explanation.
Sarah wiped tears from her face.
“You told me the truth, and I didn’t listen.”
Olivia stared at the floor.
“Grandma said you wouldn’t.”
Sarah’s head lifted.
“What?”
Eleanor entered the room.
“That’s enough of this circus.”
Sarah stood.
For most of her life, she had feared disappointing her mother.
Now she looked at her as if she were seeing a stranger.
“You told Olivia I wouldn’t believe her?”
Eleanor shrugged.
“I told her children who exaggerate eventually stop being taken seriously.”
Sarah walked toward her.
“She is four.”
“And old enough to manipulate adults.”
Sarah slapped the marble counter with both hands.
“Stop calling my daughter manipulative!”
Eleanor’s eyebrows rose.
Nobody yelled at Eleanor.
Not Sarah.
Not Michael.
Not Claire.
Not anyone.
Until now.
Sarah pointed at the basement.
“You put my child in a dark room.”
“She was having a tantrum.”
“You locked her inside.”
“To calm down.”
“You told me she invented it!”
“Because you panic over everything.”
Sarah laughed.
But there was no humor in it.
“You know what’s sick?”
Eleanor’s face hardened.
“I actually believed you because I spent my whole life being trained to distrust myself.”
Stallone looked at his daughter.
Sarah continued.
“When I was seven and told Dad you slapped me for talking back, you said I was exaggerating.”
Stallone turned toward Eleanor.
“You told me she fell against the kitchen cabinet.”
Sarah nodded.
“When I was twelve, you tore up my journal because I wrote that I hated you.”
Claire whispered, “Sarah…”
“When I was sixteen, you told me no man would stay with me if I kept crying every time someone criticized me.”
Eleanor scoffed.
“You survived.”
Sarah stared at her.
“That’s your defense?”
She moved closer.
“That we survived you?”
For the first time, Eleanor’s composure cracked.
“My mother did worse to me.”
Sarah’s voice softened.
“And there it is.”
Eleanor blinked.
“You think suffering is an inheritance.”
Sarah looked at Olivia.
“It ends with me.”
Then Marcus’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His face changed.
“What?”
Everyone turned.
Marcus slowly lowered the phone.
“That was the security company.”
Stallone frowned.
“What about them?”
“They keep thirty days of interior camera footage.”
Eleanor went pale.
May you like
Marcus looked toward the small camera above the hallway.
“And apparently, Mrs. Bennett called this morning asking them to delete it.”
