Chapter 55: Richard's Truth

Richard Whitmore pleaded guilty two weeks after Evelyn's sentencing.

Not to everything. Men like Richard still negotiated with truth as if it were a contract clause. But he admitted enough: obstruction, fraud, evidence tampering, misuse of Scarlett's trust, and failure to report what he knew about Isabella's death.

He requested one final private meeting before sentencing.

Scarlett almost refused.

Then she went.

The prison visitation room smelled of disinfectant and old regret. Richard looked aged beyond recognition. His hair had gone nearly white at the temples. His hands shook when he placed them on the table.

'Thank you for coming,' he said.

Scarlett remained silent.

'I loved your mother,' Richard whispered.

Scarlett's voice was cold. 'Not enough.'

He closed his eyes. 'No. Not enough.'

The admission did not satisfy her. It only confirmed the emptiness.

'Why did you choose Evelyn?' she asked.

Richard stared at the table. 'Because Evelyn made weakness feel like desire. Your mother made it feel like shame.'

Scarlett absorbed that slowly. 'So you punished her for being better than you.'

A tear slipped down his face. 'Yes.'

She had expected excuses. The truth was uglier.

'And me?'

Richard looked up, broken. 'After the accident, I could not look at you without seeing every choice I had made. Evelyn told me distance was kinder. I let her.'

Scarlett's throat tightened. 'You let everyone make choices for you until all your choices became crimes.'

Richard nodded.

He slid an envelope toward the glass partition. A guard passed it through.

'Your grandfather left one more document with me. I hid it because it gave you full control of everything at twenty-eight regardless of disability. It also removed me permanently if I acted against your interest.'

Scarlett stared at him.

'You knew?'

'Yes.'

'You stole years from me.'

'Yes.'

She put the envelope in her lap.

Richard pressed his hand to the glass. 'Can you ever forgive me?'

Scarlett looked at the man who had been her father.

'I do not know,' she said. 'But I will not carry your shame for you anymore.'

Then she left him with the only punishment he could not appeal: himself.