Chapter 20 - RACHEL AND VANESSA
I did not see Vanessa for six years.
Then our father died.
A heart attack at seventy.
No secret murder.
No hidden will trap.
He had remained mostly outside the scandal because he lived in another state and had trusted Vanessa to manage Mom’s archive.
His guilt was omission.
He admitted it before death.
“I liked that she handled everything.”
“So did I.”
We had all delegated discomfort.
At the funeral, Vanessa stood across the chapel.
Her hair had grown back.
Mine had more gray than I expected at thirty-five.
She approached.
“Can I talk to you?”
“Five minutes.”
Outside.
Public.
No children.
She said:
“I used to think you always got to be the good sister.”
I almost laughed.
“You were older, prettier, successful, Mom trusted you…”
“Stop.”
She did.
“Do not explain cutting Lily with a childhood scorecard.”
“I’m not.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“That I built a life where comparison paid me.”
That sentence was better.
“I compared Chloe to Lily because numbers rewarded it. Then I blamed Lily when Chloe hurt.”
“Yes.”
“And when you hit me, I used that to pretend we were the same.”
“We weren’t.”
“No.”
Pause.
“But you were wrong too.”
“Yes.”
She looked surprised.
I did not need innocence to maintain proportion.
We spoke seven minutes.
May you like
Not five.
Then left separately.
