He had known.
He had benefited.
And when his sister humiliated me, he chose the version of events that protected his image.
The mediator called another break.
During the pause, I walked into my parents’ garden.
Purple flowers had fallen across the stone path.
My mother sat beside me but did not ask what had happened.
After a while, I said, “I kept thinking he was weak.”
She waited.
“I thought he stayed silent because conflict scared him.”
“And now?”
“Now I think silence was useful to him.”
My mother took my hand.
That truth hurt differently.
Weakness could be forgiven.
Convenience was a choice.
When mediation resumed, Thomas asked to speak directly to me.
Amanda objected at first, but I said I could handle it.
Thomas leaned toward the camera.
“I made mistakes.”
It was the closest he had come to an apology.
“Which ones?” I asked.
He looked surprised.
