Chapter 7 - The Confession That Wasn’t
Garrison moved before anyone could stop him.
He crossed the room and grabbed Julian by the front of his coat.
The nurse shouted.
Security rushed forward.
Julian did not fight.
Maybe because he knew fighting would make him look guilty.
Maybe because some part of him believed he deserved it.
“You know what happened to my daughter?” Garrison asked.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Let go of me.”
“What happened?”
“I said let go.”
Security pulled them apart.
Garrison’s face looked carved from stone.
Julian adjusted his coat.
“I’ll talk.”
Rebecca, who had arrived minutes earlier, stepped between them.
“Not without counsel.”
Julian looked at her.
“I wasn’t speaking to you.”
“No. You were about to make statements relevant to a potential criminal investigation in front of witnesses.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“You need someone’s.”
Julian laughed bitterly.
Then he looked at me.
“Tomorrow. Noon. Your attorney’s office.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
He glanced at Garrison.
“But if he wants the truth about Sarah, he’ll be there.”
Then Julian left.
Nobody slept.
At noon the next day, Julian arrived with attorney David Harlan.
The same lawyer who had accused me of abandoning my marriage.
We sat around Rebecca’s conference table.
Two recorders were placed in the center.
Rebecca began.
“You requested this meeting.”
Julian nodded.
“I’m willing to provide information about Bellweather.”
“In exchange for what?”
“A settlement.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course.”
He ignored me.
“I return the money. Emma gets the house. I pay support for eighteen months. We sign mutual confidentiality agreements.”
Rebecca leaned back.
“And criminal exposure?”
“I’m not admitting to a crime.”
Garrison’s voice was cold.
“What happened to Sarah?”
Julian looked at him.
“My father followed her.”
The room went silent.
“The night she died?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she had copies of Bellweather records.”
“Did you follow her?”
“No.”
“Did your father?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Julian’s hands tightened.
“I don’t know exactly.”
Garrison slammed one palm onto the table.
“Do not lie to me.”
Harlan stood.
“If this becomes threatening—”
“Sit down,” Julian said.
His lawyer stared.
Julian looked exhausted.
“My father called me around one in the morning. He said there had been an accident.”
Garrison’s face went pale.
“What kind of accident?”
“Sarah’s car went off Old Quarry Road.”
“We know where she died.”
Julian swallowed.
“My father told me he had confronted her. She drove away. He followed.”
“And?”
“He said she lost control.”
“Do you believe him?”
Julian looked at the table.
“No.”
Garrison closed his eyes.
The room stayed silent.
I watched my husband.
For the first time, he looked less like the man who had destroyed me and more like a boy still afraid of his father.
It did not excuse him.
But it explained part of him.
“What did Charles make you do?” I asked.
Julian looked at me.
“Destroy records.”
My stomach twisted.
“Mine?”
“Yes.”
The word hit harder than expected.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew the infertility was yours.”
“Yes.”
“You let me undergo surgeries.”
His eyes dropped.
“Yes.”
“You let your mother blame me.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know about the medication?”
He hesitated.
That hesitation destroyed whatever pity remained.
“Yes.”
I stood so quickly my chair fell backward.
Rebecca rose.
“Emma.”
“No.”
I stared at him.
“You knew they were giving me something.”
“I didn’t know what it would do.”
“You knew enough to hide it.”
“My father said it would reduce the chance of successful implantation.”
I stopped breathing.
Garrison looked away.
Julian continued desperately.
“The trust restructuring was supposed to take one year. He said once it was done, we could try normally.”
“One year?”
My voice broke.
“We tried for six.”
“I know.”
“You watched me lose three pregnancies.”
“I know.”
“Did you know I was pregnant when they gave me the drugs?”
“No.”
“Did you ask?”
Silence.
That was worse.
I walked toward the window because I could not stand looking at him.
Behind me, Julian spoke.
“After the first miscarriage, I told my father I wanted out.”
I turned.
“And?”
“He threatened to expose what I had already done.”
“So you kept doing it.”
“Yes.”
“You could have told me.”
“I would have lost everything.”
I stared at him.
“You did.”
He flinched.
For once, my words hurt him.
Rebecca returned to the legal questions.
“Did Charles Mercer direct Bellweather staff to alter fertility records?”
“Yes.”
“Did Eleanor Mercer know?”
Julian hesitated again.
“Yes.”
I felt something inside me become very still.
Of course she knew.
Every cruel comment.
Every prayer.
Every accusation.
She had known.
“Did Chloe know?”
“No.”
“Did you know her insemination had actually succeeded?”
“No.”
“Did Bellweather deliberately switch donors?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why did you tell Chloe the insemination failed?”
“My mother told me.”
Everyone stopped.
Eleanor.
Again.
Julian continued.
“She said Chloe’s pregnancy could solve everything.”
“How?”
“If people believed I had naturally fathered a child, questions about my fertility disappeared.”
My stomach turned.
“Your mother used Chloe’s baby to erase your diagnosis.”
“Yes.”
Garrison leaned forward.
“And Sarah?”
Julian swallowed.
“My father called after the crash. He made me meet him at Bellweather. We destroyed files.”
“Was Sarah alive when he left the road?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he call for help?”
“No.”
Garrison looked ready to break.
Julian’s voice lowered.
“I’m sorry.”
Garrison stared at him.
“Don’t ever say that to me.”
Julian nodded.
The meeting lasted another hour.
By the end, Rebecca had enough for civil claims.
The state investigator who had quietly joined by phone had enough to request a formal interview.
Julian signed nothing.
He had wanted a settlement.
Instead, he had opened a grave.
When we left the office, Eleanor stood across the street.
She must have known.
She watched Julian come outside.
Then she slapped him.
Hard.
Even from thirty feet away, I heard it.
“You weak little fool.”
Julian stared at her.
“You knew Chloe’s baby wasn’t mine.”
Eleanor froze.
“You knew the insemination worked.”
“Get in the car.”
“You lied.”
“I protected you.”
“You destroyed my marriage.”
“No.”
She stepped close.
“You destroyed your marriage because you were stupid enough to fall in love with a woman who made you soft.”
I watched Julian’s face.
Then Eleanor said something quieter.
Something only he could hear.
He went white.
She walked away.
Julian stood motionless.
I approached despite Rebecca telling me not to.
“What did she say?”
He looked at me.
For once, there was no arrogance left.
“She said Sarah wasn’t the only accident.”
My skin went cold.
“What does that mean?”
Julian looked toward the departing car.
Then at me.
“Your third miscarriage.”
May you like
I stopped breathing.
He whispered, “My mother was at the clinic that day.”
