CHAPTER 12: THE LETTER FROM PRISON
Two weeks after the trial, I received a letter from my mother.
I almost threw it away. Part of me didn't want to read it. Part of me was afraid of what it would say—more accusations, more blame, more of the same venom that had poisoned our relationship for years.
But I couldn't bring myself to throw it in the trash. So I opened it.
Bella,
I know you probably hate me. I don't blame you. I did terrible things, and I deserve to be punished.
But I want you to know—I never meant to hurt you. I thought I was helping Jacob. I thought I was doing the right thing. I was wrong.
I'm sorry.
I know that's not enough. It's not even close. But I'm sorry.
I don't expect you to forgive me. I just want you to know that I'm sorry.
Your mother
I read the letter three times. I looked for the manipulation, the guilt-tripping, the subtle jabs that my mother had always been so good at. But I didn't find them. The letter was simple. Honest. Almost humble.
But I couldn't forgive her. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Because forgiveness wasn't something she could demand. It was something I had to give freely. And right now, I wasn't ready.
I folded the letter and put it in a drawer. I didn't write back. I didn't call. I didn't do anything.
May you like
Because I had already moved on. And I didn't need her apology to feel whole.
I had found my own closure. And that was enough.
