Chapter 13 - The Unexpected Guest
The drive back to Pasadena was suffocatingly silent.
Valerie stared out the passenger window, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
I wanted to apologize, to promise her that I would destroy Arthur Vance, but I knew words meant nothing right now.
She needed action, and I needed a flawless strategy.
When we pulled into our driveway, I noticed a sleek, silver Mercedes parked out front.
It wasn't a paparazzi vehicle.
It was too elegant, too understated.
I parked my car and stepped out, instinctively putting myself between Valerie and the stranger’s vehicle.
The driver’s side door of the Mercedes opened.
A woman stepped out, wearing a tailored cream pantsuit and oversized sunglasses.
She paused, taking a deep breath before removing her glasses.
It was Eleanor Sterling.
My mother.
I froze, my hand hovering over the handle of my own car door.
I hadn't spoken to her since the day I left Chloe at the altar.
She had stood silently by my father’s side my entire life, a passive observer to his tyranny.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice completely devoid of warmth.
Eleanor flinched at my tone, but she stood her ground.
"I came to see my son," she said quietly.
"And my granddaughter."
Valerie stepped out from behind me, her defensive walls instantly going up.
"You don't have a granddaughter," I snapped.
"My father made sure of that when he threatened to take her away."
"I didn't know about that, Carter!" my mother pleaded, taking a step forward.
"You have to believe me."
"Richard keeps a lot of things from me."
"But when I saw the news, when I realized you had a child..."
Her voice broke, and a single tear traced down her perfectly powdered cheek.
"I want to know her, Carter."
"Please."
I stared at her, searching for the deception I had grown so accustomed to in my family.
But she just looked tired.
Older than I remembered.
Before I could tell her to leave, Valerie placed a gentle hand on my arm.
I looked at Valerie, surprised.
"Let her in," Valerie whispered.
"She’s a mother, Carter."
"I know what it feels like to be kept from your family."
Reluctantly, I unlocked the front door and led my mother into our modest living room.
She looked around, her eyes taking in the scattered toys, the crayon drawings on the fridge, the life I had built from the ashes of my old one.
"It’s a beautiful home," she said sincerely.
She sat on the edge of the sofa, looking at Valerie with a mixture of curiosity and deep respect.
"I am so sorry for what my husband did to you, Valerie," my mother said, her voice shaking.
"I truly am."
"Thank you," Valerie replied cautiously, sitting on the armchair across from her.
"But I doubt you drove all the way from Manhattan just to apologize."
My mother smiled sadly.
"You're smart."
"Carter is lucky to have you."
She reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a thick, brown manila envelope.
She placed it on the coffee table between us.
"I did come to meet my granddaughter," my mother said, her tone suddenly shifting to something sharp and urgent.
"But I also came to warn you."
I stared at the envelope.
"Warn me about what?"
"Arthur Vance and your father," she said, leaning forward.
May you like
"They aren't just trying to ruin Valerie’s career, Carter."
"They are framing you for federal fraud."
