Chapter 17 - ALMA ASKED REBECCA WHY SHE HADN’T BELIEVED HER EARLIERAlma moved temporarily into Rebecca’s guest room after the mansion became tied up in estate litigation.
Not because Rebecca needed a housekeeper.
Because Lucas wanted her nearby.
Alma repeatedly tried to clean.
Rebecca repeatedly told her to stop.
“You’re not working here.”
“I don’t know how to sit.”
“Learn.”
Alma complained.
Lucas loved it.
One evening, after he fell asleep, Alma sat at the kitchen table.
“There is something I need to say.”
Rebecca poured tea.
“Okay.”
“I tried to warn you about Mrs. Tabitha.”
Rebecca stopped.
“When?”
“After Mr. Ethan died.”
“How?”
“I said Lucas was quieter after visits.”
Rebecca remembered.
Alma had said:
He seems different when he comes back.
Rebecca replied:
He’s grieving.
“You’re right.”
Rebecca sat.
“You did.”
Alma looked down.
“I should have said more.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Yes.”
Alma looked surprised.
No immediate reassurance.
Rebecca continued:
“And I should have asked more.”
“Yes.”
“What did you see then?”
“Nothing like the bathroom.”
“Then what?”
“Mrs. Tabitha would correct Lucas every time he mentioned his mother.”
“How?”
“If he said, ‘Mom does this,’ she would say, ‘You’re in your father’s house now.’”
Rebecca frowned.
“Anything else?”
“She removed your photograph from his room.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Lucas put it back.”
“Then?”
“She removed it again.”
Rebecca felt anger.
“Why didn’t Lucas tell me?”
“He thought maybe you knew.”
That hurt.
Alma continued.
“Then she started saying you were too busy.”
“In front of him?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“I don’t know.”
Rebecca stared at the table.
The bathroom wasn’t the beginning.
It was the moment evidence finally existed.
“Why didn’t you record sooner?”
Alma’s eyes filled.
“I kept telling myself she was grieving too.”
“That she lost her husband.”
“That I shouldn’t judge harsh words in grief.”
Rebecca nodded slowly.
“And?”
“I was afraid if I accused her, she would fire me.”
“Then you wouldn’t be near Lucas.”
“Yes.”
“That’s understandable.”
“But not enough.”
Alma looked at her.
Rebecca nodded.
“No.”
They sat quietly.
Alma whispered:
“When I heard Lucas say, ‘Don’t do it anymore,’ I knew.”
Rebecca’s throat tightened.
The word anymore.
It meant some version of cruelty happened before.
Maybe not the trash bin specifically.
But fear had history.
“You did the right thing then.”
“Too late.”
“Later than we wish.”
Rebecca corrected gently.
“But not too late.”
Alma cried.
Rebecca understood now why simple forgiveness language could be dangerous.
If she told Alma she had done nothing wrong, it would erase the missed warnings.
If she blamed Alma completely, it would erase Tabitha’s manipulation.
The useful truth sat between.
Alma failed to act sooner.
Then acted when it mattered.
Rebecca failed to listen deeply.
Then changed.
Neither failure belonged to Lucas.
That was important.
Then Alma asked:
“Do you hate her?”
“Tabitha?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca thought.
“Yes.”
Alma looked surprised by the directness.
“Will that go away?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t worry Lucas will feel it?”
“I don’t talk to him about hate.”
Rebecca sipped tea.
“He gets to have his own feelings.”
“Even if he misses her?”
That question stopped Rebecca.
Could Lucas miss Tabitha?
There had been good days.
Trips to the zoo.
Cookies.
Birthday decorations.
Tabitha had once sat up all night when Lucas had the flu.
Abusers are not always cruel every minute.
That complexity could confuse children.
Dr. Greene had already warned Rebecca.
If Lucas remembered affection, do not tell him it was fake.
Tell him good moments do not cancel unsafe ones.
Rebecca answered Alma:
“If he misses her, he misses her.”
“Would that hurt you?”
“Yes.”
“But that is my problem.”
A week later, Lucas proved the point.
He was drawing the Nashville mansion.
“Tabitha made good pancakes.”
Rebecca almost froze.
Then:
“She did.”
“Better than yours.”
Rebecca looked offended.
“That is a serious accusation.”
Lucas smiled.
Then became sad.
“She was nice sometimes.”
“Yes.”
“So why was she mean?”
Rebecca sat beside him.
“I don’t know all the reasons.”
“Was I bad?”
“No.”
“Did she love me?”
Rebecca refused certainty she didn’t have.
“I don’t know what she felt.”
Lucas frowned.
“She said she did.”
“Maybe sometimes she felt something she called love.”
“But?”
“Love is not permission to scare you or hurt you.”
Lucas thought.
“So the pancakes can be good and she can still be bad?”
Rebecca smiled slightly.
“Her choices can still be wrong.”
“Even if pancakes are good.”
“Yes.”
Lucas nodded.
“Okay.”
He returned to drawing.
Rebecca felt the strange relief of letting reality stay complicated.
Then Alma remembered something else.
“Mr. Ethan had a storage box.”
Rebecca looked up.
“Where?”
“Not here.”
“Where?”
“His recording studio downtown.”
“What’s inside?”
“I don’t know.”
“He once told me if the blue ledger wasn’t enough, the studio box would explain why Signal Labs mattered.”
Rebecca sighed.
Another hidden object.
Alma almost smiled.
“Mr. Ethan liked hiding things.”
Rebecca looked at her.
“He also liked not telling anyone anything.”
“True.”
They contacted investigators.
The studio box existed.
Locked.
Inside was not more conspiracy evidence.
It contained product prototypes.
Contracts.
And a video Ethan recorded for Lucas.
Rebecca almost didn’t play it.
Then saw the date.
The night before Ethan flew to Memphis.
Ethan sat in the studio.
“If you’re watching this, buddy, you’re older.”
Rebecca’s eyes filled.
Lucas was only six now.
This belonged to him someday.
She stopped the video.
No need to turn every message from Ethan into evidence.
Some things could remain family.
Then she noticed the label on a contract beneath it.
SIGNAL LABS — EMPLOYEE OWNERSHIP PLAN.
Ethan had planned something no one knew.
He did not want Lucas to inherit full control of the company at all.
May you like
He planned to transfer much of the voting power to employees.
The entire custody conspiracy may have been fighting for control Ethan was already preparing to give away.
Related Stories
