Chapter 7 - Selina's Letter
Selina wrote constantly from prison.
For the first year, I opened nothing.
Then the letters stopped.
Two years passed.
One arrived addressed to Phedra.
I wanted to throw it away.
Phedra said:
“My letter.”
She was right.
She opened it.
Read.
Then handed it to me.
Selina wrote:
Phedra, I spent years believing Damian's money belonged to me because I raised him.
Then I convinced myself your illness made spending money on you wasteful.
I stopped.
Mom had never admitted that.
The letter continued.
There is no version of that belief that makes me a good person.
Phedra read silently beside me.
Then:
I shaved your head because I wanted to humiliate you after you threatened to tell Damian. I took your necklace because I knew it mattered to you. I withheld food because I wanted obedience.
No excuses.
Phedra started shaking.
I took the letter.
“Stop.”
“No.”
“You don't have to finish.”
“I know.”
She finished.
Selina didn't ask for forgiveness.
She asked for nothing.
At the bottom:
I am sorry. I understand that you owe me no response.
Phedra folded the letter.
“What do you want to do?”
“Nothing.”
So we did nothing.
Months later, another letter came.
Phedra returned it unopened.
Then another year passed.
Selina became eligible for release.
A victim notification arrived.
Phedra sat at the kitchen table.
“Are you afraid?”
She thought.
“No.”
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
Then:
“I don't want her near me.”
Both could be true.
No fear.
No access.
We obtained appropriate no-contact protections.
Selina complied.
That mattered.
She moved several hours away after release.
Worked in a church thrift store.
Lived quietly.
Godfrey visited her.
I didn't.
Then I received a letter.
One page.
Damian,
You worked four years believing you were supporting us. I turned your sacrifice into something you never consented to.
You do not owe me another chance because I am your mother.
That sentence took me back to court.
I raised you. You owe me.
Now:
You do not owe me.
I cried.
Not because everything was fixed.
Because something had changed.
I wrote one sentence back.
I received your letter.
May you like
Nothing more.
For then.
