Chapter 18 - Isabella’s GoodbyeIsabella requested one final supervised meeting before sentencing.
Not with Noah.
With Maya.
My immediate answer was no.
Dr. Shaw surprised me.
“It should be Maya’s choice.”
“She’s a child.”
“Yes.”
“And children can make some decisions about their own boundaries.”
I hated the idea.
Maya did not.
“I want to see her.”
“Why?”
Maya shrugged.
“I have a question.”
We met in a child advocacy center.
Bright walls.
Soft furniture.
Two counselors.
A security officer outside.
Isabella entered wearing a plain gray uniform.
Her hair was shorter.
She looked older than forty.
Maya sat beside me.
Isabella stopped when she saw her.
“Hi, Maya.”
Maya said nothing.
Isabella sat across from us.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Maya asked.
“Did you hate me?”
Isabella’s face tightened.
I wanted to intervene.
Dr. Shaw shook her head slightly.
Let Maya lead.
Isabella looked at her hands.
“Sometimes I thought I did.”
Maya absorbed that.
“Why?”
“Because you reminded me of your mother.”
“That’s stupid.”
A counselor almost smiled.
Isabella nodded.
“Yes.”
Maya continued.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“No.”
“You made me think Daddy would choose you.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Isabella swallowed.
“Because I was afraid he wouldn’t.”
Maya stared at her.
“So you made me afraid instead.”
Isabella’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Maya looked toward me.
Then back at Isabella.
“Did you love Noah?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you make me carry him all day?”
Isabella could not answer immediately.
Finally she whispered.
“Because I wanted someone else to do what I didn’t want to do.”
The brutal simplicity of it shocked even me.
Maya nodded slowly.
Then she asked her final question.
“Are you sorry because you got caught?”
Isabella began crying.
She did not wipe her face.
“I don’t know.”
I looked at her.
It was the first completely honest thing I had heard from her.
She continued.
“I’m sorry when I remember what I did.”
“I’m sorry when I remember your face.”
“I’m sorry when I think about Noah growing up and knowing.”
“But I don’t know if I would have stopped if your father hadn’t come home.”
Maya sat very still.
Then she stood.
“I’m done.”
Isabella looked up.
“Maya.”
Maya paused.
“I don’t forgive you.”
Isabella closed her eyes.
Maya continued.
“Maybe someday I won’t think about you.”
Then she walked toward the door.
I followed.
Outside, I asked.
“Are you okay?”
Maya considered it.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
She nodded.
“I thought she was a monster.”
“And?”
“She’s not.”
I waited.
Maya looked through the glass door.
“She’s just someone who kept choosing bad things.”
That distinction seemed important to her.
Maybe it was important to me too.
Monsters exist outside ordinary morality.
People do not.
People choose.
Again.
And again.
That meant Isabella’s cruelty had never been inevitable.
May you like
She had chosen it.
And Maya no longer carried responsibility for any of those choices.
