They Faked Their Deaths, I Faked My Recovery Chapter 09
The department let it slide. My record spoke for itself, and my reasons held up.
Chief Calder pinned the Medal of Valor on me himself. He was smiling when he did it.
“Mara, I want you back in Major Crimes tomorrow.”
I froze. The sting hit my eyes first, then my throat, then everything at once.
I couldn’t stop shaking.
This day. I’d waited so long for this day.
I saluted Chief Calder. My eyes were burning, but I held them open.
“Detective Ellison, reporting for duty, sir!”
My colleagues threw a welcome-back party for me that night.
People told me I was brave. People said they were sorry for what I’d been through. A few apologized for the years they’d spent looking down on me.
It meant something. I wouldn’t pretend it didn’t.
But an apology three years too late wasn’t the kind you forgave.
I’d keep doing what I’d always done: standing alone if I had to, doing what was right.
It didn’t take long for Graham and my parents to find out I was alive.
—
They showed up at my door with Wesley before the day was over.
The second Wesley saw me, he threw himself into my arms and started sobbing.
“Mom, I thought I’d never see you again!”
“I knew you wouldn’t leave me! I promise I’ll be good. I’ll do my homework. I’ll never eat candy again!”
My mother’s hands were shaking as she wiped her face.
She tried to smile, careful and pleading, and watched my face for a reaction.
“Mara, are you hungry? I’ll make your favorite eggplant parmesan right now.”
Graham stood behind them with a suitcase. He couldn’t look me in the eye.
“Mara, I’m bringing Wesley home tonight. I’m moving back in.”
I laughed. It wasn’t a warm sound. Then I blocked the doorway.
“I’m tired, and I don’t have time for visitors. Please leave.”
My mother started crying on the spot.
“What are you talking about? Visitors? I’m your mother, Graham’s your husband, and Wesley’s your son. We’re your family!”
I shook my head, almost laughing.
“I don’t have a husband or a son. They died three years ago.”
—
“And my mother? She cut me off because I wouldn’t hand my life’s work to Sloane. So I don’t have one of those either.”
“Strangers shouldn’t show up at my door uninvited.”
I went to close the door. Graham caught the frame with one hand, his eyes wet.
“Mara, you can’t really walk away from us. From Wesley.”
Three years of it crashed through me at once. My jaw locked.
“Graham, who walked away first?”
“You slept with my sister. When you couldn’t face what that made you, the two of you faked your deaths and took my son. You left me alone with all of it.”
“You paid people to stage those attacks and come after me. And you watched, like it was some kind of show, while they beat me until I couldn’t stand.”
“Look me in the eye, Graham, and tell me you deserve to be forgiven.”