Chapter 18 - Sadie’s Choice
Sadie had been asking one question for weeks.
“Can I talk to Leah?”
Not hear a recording.
Talk.
Dr. Nina believed Sadie was ready if the adults kept expectations realistic.
Angela arranged a mediated video call.
Thirty minutes maximum.
Ethan asked:
“Do you want me in the room?”
“Yes.”
“Martha?”
“No.”
Martha accepted without hurt.
The call connected.
Leah appeared.
Early twenties? Actually if she was 19 at birth, Sadie 8 -> 27.
Brown hair.
Nervous smile.
Sadie stared.
Leah stared.
Nobody knew what to say.
Then Leah laughed softly.
“You look like you hate socks.”
Sadie looked down.
Bare feet.
Ethan laughed.
The tension broke.
Sadie asked:
“Did you give me the rabbit?”
“Yes.”
“I still have it.”
Leah covered her mouth.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Then silence.
Sadie looked at Ethan.
He waited.
Her choice.
She asked:
“Why did you leave me?”
Leah’s eyes filled.
She didn’t correct the word immediately.
“I left the hospital without you.”
Sadie nodded.
“That’s what I mean.”
Leah breathed.
“I was nineteen.”
“I know.”
“My mother’s house was not safe or calm.”
“Did she hurt you?”
Ethan tensed.
Leah answered carefully.
“She controlled a lot of my life and there was a lot of fighting. I didn’t want you growing up inside that.”
“Couldn’t you leave?”
“I did.”
“With me?”
“I didn’t have anywhere stable to take a baby.”
Sadie looked down.
“Did you try?”
“Yes.”
Leah did not give operational details.
She stayed with friends.
Worked.
Spoke to counselors.
She considered parenting.
Then adoption.
“I was scared I would keep you because letting you go hurt me, even if keeping you wasn’t best for you.”
Sadie cried.
Leah cried too.
“Do you regret it?”
Leah took time.
“I regret that I wasn’t ready.”
Pause.
“I don’t regret choosing a safe father for you.”
Sadie looked at Ethan.
“What if Dad hadn’t been good?”
Leah’s face changed.
“I would have carried that forever.”
Ethan felt the weight.
Sadie asked:
“Did you know Veronica?”
“No.”
“She lied about you.”
“I know.”
“Are you mad?”
Leah thought.
“Yes.”
“Do you hate her?”
“No.”
Sadie looked surprised.
“Why?”
“I don’t know her enough to hate her.”
That was healthy.
Then Sadie asked:
“Can I call you Leah?”
Leah smiled through tears.
“Yes.”
“Does that hurt?”
“A little.”
Sadie looked worried.
Leah continued.
“But it is not your job to make my feelings easy.”
Ethan almost laughed.
Everyone in Sadie’s healing circle kept giving her the opposite message Veronica had.
Adults manage adult emotions.
Then Leah asked:
“Can I ask you one thing?”
Sadie nodded.
“What do you like?”
Sadie frowned.
“What?”
“I know what happened. I know what adults are investigating.”
Leah smiled.
“But what do you like?”
No one had asked that during the call.
Sadie answered.
Drawing.
Dogs.
Blueberry pancakes.
Science.
Hating dresses.
Ethan raised eyebrow at the dress part.
Sadie ignored him.
Leah listened.
Not analyzing.
Not making adoption the center.
At thirty minutes, Angela said time.
Sadie looked disappointed.
“Can we do it again?”
Leah smiled.
“If you want.”
“Next month?”
“Yes.”
Not tomorrow.
Not instant reunion.
Slow.
Sadie ended call.
Then sat quietly.
“How do you feel?” Ethan asked.
“Tired.”
“Anything else?”
“Good.”
“Anything else?”
“Sad.”
He nodded.
“Anything else?”
“Stop.”
He laughed.
“Right.”
That evening, she placed Leah’s picture inside a drawer.
Not beside Ethan.
Not hidden.
Its own place.
Then she asked:
“Is Veronica my mom?”
Ethan froze.
“What do you mean?”
“She was my stepmom.”
“Yes.”
“Does divorce erase that?”
“Legally, she won’t be your stepmother after divorce.”
Sadie looked strange.
“Does that mean none of it happened?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Why good?
Because Sadie didn’t want the relationship rewritten just because it ended.
There had been pancakes.
Movies.
Braided hair.
Cruelty.
Control.
All real.
She wanted the whole truth.
Then Ethan’s phone rang.
Julia.
Federal prosecutors had reached a charging decision.
Veronica would be indicted on multiple financial counts.
State prosecutors were filing a separate domestic assault-related charge based on the bathroom incident and her admissions.
No sensational charge.
No invented injury.
But real consequence.
Ethan listened.
Then asked:
“Does Sadie need to testify?”
“Probably not for initial proceedings. Martha’s video and Veronica’s proffer admissions are strong.”
He looked toward Sadie.
She was drawing.
“Good.”
“Ethan.”
“Yes?”
“Veronica’s lawyers want a global plea discussion.”
He closed his eyes.
The story was entering consequence.
May you like
But Sadie’s life could not become a courtroom.
That was the next thing Ethan intended to protect—without confusing protection with secrecy.
