Chapter 17 - Wren Asked the Hardest QuestionWren waited five months to ask.
“Why didn’t you know?”
Conrad knew exactly what she meant.
They were at Carson Ridge.
First visit since the investigation began.
Wren rode in the passenger seat of the ranch utility cart beside him.
Marisol followed in another vehicle with lunch.
No Maureen.
No Celeste.
Just open land.
Wren looked toward the mountains.
“Maureen did stuff before the videos.”
Conrad’s hands tightened on the wheel.
“I know.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
He stopped the cart.
Not because he had a perfect answer.
Because she deserved full attention.
“I worked too much.”
Wren waited.
“I trusted Maureen too much.”
Still waiting.
“And sometimes when you told me she was mean, I thought you meant strict.”
Wren looked at him.
“I did tell you.”
The words hurt.
“Yes.”
“What did I say?”
Conrad remembered fragments.
Maureen doesn’t like when I ask questions.
Maureen says I cry too much.
Can Marisol pick me up instead?
He interpreted each separately.
Never as a pattern.
“You said you didn’t like being alone with her sometimes.”
Wren nodded.
“And I told you she loved you.”
“Yes.”
Conrad closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
Wren stared at the landscape.
“Did you think I was lying?”
“No.”
“Then why didn’t you do anything?”
Harder.
“I thought I understood what you meant better than you did.”
Wren looked at him.
“That’s dumb.”
“Yes.”
No defense.
No:
I was trying my best.
No:
Parents make mistakes.
Just yes.
Wren leaned back.
“Dr. Reid says adults do that.”
“Do what?”
“Think kids are saying something smaller.”
Conrad nodded.
“Yes.”
Then Wren asked:
“Will you do it again?”
Conrad wanted to promise no.
Instead:
“I might misunderstand something again someday.”
Her face tightened.
“But?”
“But I’m going to ask more questions before deciding what you mean.”
Wren considered.
“That’s okay.”
Conrad breathed.
They drove farther.
At the ridge, Wren climbed out.
Elise’s favorite cottonwood still stood near the dry creek.
Wren touched the trunk.
“Mom’s tree.”
“Yes.”
“Can Aunt Celeste sell this?”
“No.”
“Can you?”
“Legally, as trustee, I could approve a sale if it truly benefited you.”
Wren frowned.
“I don’t want you to.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t.”
“Right now, I won’t.”
She looked satisfied.
Then:
“When I’m old?”
“You decide with good advice.”
“How old?”
“The trust gives you more control at twenty-five.”
“That’s forever.”
Conrad laughed.
“To you.”
Wren looked at the hills.
“I want horses here.”
“Possible.”
“And Marisol wants chickens.”
From behind them Marisol yelled:
“I said no such thing!”
Wren laughed.
The sound traveled across the land.
Conrad felt something inside him loosen.
Then Wren asked:
“Can we keep it even if it’s worth a lot?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because value isn’t only the amount someone will pay.”
Wren smiled.
“Mom said that.”
Of course she did.
They ate lunch under the cottonwood.
Marisol eventually spoke.
“Wren.”
“Yes?”
“I owe you an apology.”
Conrad watched.
Marisol had practiced this with Dr. Reid’s guidance.
Not forcing Wren to forgive.
“I saw Maureen scare you before I told your dad.”
Wren looked down.
“I know.”
“I thought I needed more proof.”
“You did.”
Marisol’s eyes filled.
“I was wrong.”
Wren picked at her sandwich.
Then:
“Did you think Dad wouldn’t believe you?”
“Yes.”
Wren looked at Conrad.
He swallowed.
She returned to Marisol.
“Next time tell.”
“I will.”
Wren nodded.
No hug.
No “I forgive you.”
Just a boundary.
Conrad admired her.
Adults kept searching for grand emotional resolutions.
Wren preferred instructions.
Next time tell.
Simple.
Useful.
Then she ran toward the tree line.
Conrad called:
“Stay where I can see you.”
She shouted:
“I am!”
Marisol smiled.
“She’s getting louder.”
“Good.”
For months Wren had spoken softly in hallways.
May you like
Now her voice carried.
Conrad decided that was one sound he would never again ask her to reduce for the sake of peace.
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