Chapter 2 - HELEN’S FIRST STORY
My mother had three versions of what happened.
The first lasted six hours.
She told police Lily slipped.
The video destroyed that.
The second lasted two days.
She claimed she only meant to toss the blanket aside and did not realize Lily was still wrapped inside it.
Three different videos showed her gripping the bundle while I screamed:
“Mom, give me my baby.”
That version died too.
The third story was the one she kept.
She panicked.
She lost control.
It happened too fast.
She loved Lily.
She would never intentionally hurt her.
That final sentence might even have been true.
That was what made everything more complicated.
People can love someone and still become dangerous to them.
Love does not create safety automatically.
My attorney, Denise Parker, helped me obtain a protective order covering Lily and me while the criminal investigation continued.
Helen called from unknown numbers.
I stopped answering.
Then letters arrived.
The first said:
I forgive you for turning everyone against me.
I laughed so hard I scared Lily.
The second was twelve pages.
Not one genuine apology.
She wrote about my childhood.
Her sacrifices.
Rebecca’s problems.
Dad’s passivity.
My “need for control.”
By page nine, Lily had barely been mentioned.
I stopped reading.
The third letter began:
I am sorry you misunderstood my actions.
Trash.
Denise told me:
“You don’t have to keep reading these.”
So I didn’t.
That was strangely difficult.
For thirty-two years, my mother had trained me to receive her explanations even after she refused to receive my pain.
Stopping felt rude.
Then I remembered my baby above a fire.
May you like
Rudeness survived.
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