Chapter 8 - Marissa’s Last SummerLacey asked to see videos of her mother.
Gloria had hundreds.
She had avoided them for years because grief transformed ordinary footage into something unbearable.
Now she opened the archive.
Marissa at the beach.
Marissa burning pancakes.
Marissa chasing four-year-old Lacey through the garden.
Warren appeared in many.
Laughing.
Holding Marissa’s hand.
Carrying Lacey on his shoulders.
Lacey watched silently.
“Was he pretending?”
Gloria paused the video.
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t know everything Warren felt.”
“So maybe.”
“Maybe some moments were genuine.”
Lacey looked angry.
“That makes it worse.”
Gloria understood.
A completely fake father would be easier to reject.
A father who sometimes loved her and later harmed her created confusion.
“People can love badly,” Gloria said.
“What does that mean?”
“They can feel attachment and still choose control, selfishness, or cruelty.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Yes.”
Lacey resumed the video.
On screen, Marissa called:
“Lacey, don’t pick the flowers!”
Four-year-old Lacey ran laughing.
Present-day Lacey smiled unexpectedly.
“She got mad.”
“She loved those flowers.”
“The same garden?”
“Yes.”
Lacey became quiet.
The garden had once belonged to her mother’s ordinary life.
Warren had transformed it into terror.
Maybe reclaiming it would take longer than replacing soil.
Elaine discovered another item in Marissa’s estate records.
A private memorandum about Lacey’s guardianship.
Marissa had considered naming Gloria as Lacey’s guardian if Warren became unable to parent.
But because Warren was the biological father with full parental rights, Marissa could not simply override him by will.
She wrote instead:
If serious concerns arise about Warren’s fitness, Gloria should seek immediate legal advice rather than assume my wishes automatically control.
Even dying, Marissa had been realistic.
No magical will transferring a child.
No dramatic secret clause.
Just a warning to use the law properly.
Gloria appreciated that.
Family court was now doing exactly that.
The temporary guardianship remained in place.
Warren’s attorneys requested supervised phone calls.
Lacey’s therapist opposed immediate contact.
The judge postponed the issue.
Warren sent a letter through counsel.
Gloria did not give it to Lacey until her therapist reviewed it.
It began:
Sweetheart, I am sorry you became frightened.
Gloria stopped reading.
Became frightened.
As though fear simply appeared.
The letter continued:
Adults sometimes make terrible decisions under extreme stress.
No direct description of what he did.
No acknowledgment of the suitcase.
No mention of the garden.
At the end:
I hope someday you understand I was trying to protect our family.
Lacey read it once.
Then placed it on the table.
“What family?”
Gloria said nothing.
“He means the money.”
“Probably himself.”
Lacey looked at the page.
“He didn’t say he put me there.”
“No.”
“Then he’s not sorry.”
Gloria resisted turning that into an absolute.
“He hasn’t taken full responsibility in this letter.”
“That’s adult language for no.”
Gloria almost smiled.
“Yes.”
Lacey tore the letter in half.
Then stopped.
“Am I allowed?”
“It belongs to you.”
She tore it again.
The pieces went into the trash.
Warren’s lawyer later complained that Gloria was “interfering with reconciliation.”
Elaine responded in writing:
A ten-year-old child is not obligated to reconcile on an adult’s litigation schedule.
Gloria framed the sentence privately in her mind.
Meanwhile investigators kept tracing the reset fund.
Alder Crest’s financial records showed Warren had already moved $120,000 into an account controlled by a travel-consulting company.
The company belonged to an old friend named Douglas Pierce.
Douglas initially claimed the money paid consulting fees.
There were no invoices.
No work product.
Faced with subpoenaed messages, Douglas changed his story.
Warren had asked him to “hold” money temporarily.
Another temporary act.
Another betrayal supposedly erased by future repayment.
Douglas returned most of the funds and began cooperating.
He also produced text messages.
Warren:
If Gloria forces this into court, I’m done here.
Douglas:
Here meaning Connecticut?
Warren:
Here meaning this version of my life.
Douglas:
And Lacey?
Warren:
She comes with me.
There was no ambiguity.
Gloria read the message and felt physically sick.
Elaine looked at her.
“Now we know.”
Gloria whispered, “He was going to take her.”
“Yes.”
The prosecution added the messages to its evidence.
Whether they supported additional charges would depend on more than words.
But for the family court, they mattered immediately.
Warren’s request for contact was denied again.
The judge cited concern about coercion and possible flight planning.
For the first time since the garden, Gloria slept six uninterrupted hours.
Not because Warren disappeared.
May you like
Because the law had finally recognized the same danger she feared.
And recognition mattered.
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