Barbara's Choice
Chapter 12 - Barbara's Choice
Barbara visited Daniel's grave before sunrise.
No driver. No flowers from the estate gardener. Just a paper cup of coffee cooling in the Mercedes console and wet grass darkening the toes of her shoes.
The cemetery sat behind an old stone church near the lake. Wind moved through bare branches with a dry scraping sound.
Barbara carried no umbrella.
She stopped before Daniel's name.
DANIEL EDWARD HALE.
BELOVED SON, HUSBAND, FATHER.
The order had bothered Emily at the funeral. Barbara had chosen it.
Barbara touched the pearls at her throat.
Marcus gave them to her in a private dining room three weeks before Daniel died. He said they made her look like a woman who had never needed to ask anyone for anything.
She had heard admiration.
Now she heard warning.
“I loved you,” she said to the stone.
Her voice sounded foolish outdoors.
She looked around to make sure no groundskeeper was nearby.
“I did.”
Rainwater filled the carved letters of Daniel's name.
Barbara remembered him at five, refusing to enter kindergarten unless she stood at the window. At sixteen, taking her car without permission. At thirty-four, placing Poppy in her arms and saying, “Don't critique her mother today.”
She had laughed.
He hadn't.
“I thought I was saving it,” she said. “The company. Your name. Her future.”
A train horn carried from far away.
Barbara pressed one gloved hand to the stone.
“What was I supposed to do? Lose you and then hand everything to police and bankers?”
The grave offered no agreement.
Her face tightened.
“I know what she thinks of me.”
Emily.
Barbara rarely used the name even alone.
“The nurse thinks questions make her righteous.”
Wind lifted the edge of Barbara's coat.
“She has no idea what it costs to hold a family together.”
That sentence sounded familiar.
Her own mother had said it after every cruelty.
Barbara sat on the damp stone bench and stared at Daniel's grave.
For the first time, she allowed the fear beneath all the other fears to speak plainly.
“If she takes Poppy away, there will be no one left who needs me.”
The confession made her shoulders bend.
Not company. Not reputation.
Need.
She had confused it with love for years.
A tear slipped beneath her glasses. Barbara wiped it before it reached her cheek.
Then she removed her phone and called Rosalind Cho.
---
Rosalind answered on the fourth ring.
“Who is this?”
“Barbara Hale.”
A pause.
“This must be serious. You used a first name.”
“I need to speak with you privately.”
“You have counsel.”
“Not about custody.”
“Everything you do is about custody.”
Barbara looked at Daniel's stone.
“I may be willing to testify.”
Rosalind stopped breathing loudly into the phone.
“Against Marcus?”
“Yes.”
“Why call me?”
“Because Emily won't answer me.”
“Good instinct on her part.”
Barbara closed her eyes.
“I am not asking for forgiveness.”
“What are you asking for?”
“A path.”
“To what?”
“To remain in Poppy's life.”
Rosalind's answer came flat.
“You tried to remove Poppy from her mother.”
“I believed Emily was going to destroy the company.”
“She was trying to find out who killed her husband.”
“It wasn't murder.”
“You don't get to choose the charge.”
Barbara gripped the phone.
“I saw the car.”
“And you lied.”
“Yes.”
The word tasted metallic.
Rosalind went quiet.
Barbara continued before she lost nerve.
“I can identify Marcus. I can explain the payments. I kept copies of messages he sent after the crash.”
“Where?”
“Safe.”
“That's not an answer.”
“It is the only one I'm giving until terms are discussed.”
Rosalind made a small sound of disgust.
“You're bargaining with evidence of your son's death.”
“I am trying to keep one mistake from erasing the rest of my life.”
“One?”
Barbara looked down at the mud on her shoes.
“No,” she said. “Not one.”
That was the closest she had come to honesty in months.
Rosalind's voice softened by a degree.
“I'll tell Emily you called.”
“Today.”
“I'll tell her when she's ready to hear it.”
Barbara almost corrected her.
She didn't.
The call ended.
---
Emily listened to Rosalind's account that evening while folding Poppy's laundry.
Tiny shirts. Tiny socks. A yellow sleeper with a stain near the collar that never came out.
“She wants a path back to Poppy,” Rosalind said.
“She wants immunity.”
“Probably both.”
Emily matched two socks.
“Did she say what evidence she has?”
“Messages from Marcus.”
“Copies?”
“She claims.”
“Why now?”
“Because Detective Keene spoke to the mechanic this morning.”
Emily folded another shirt.
“Marcus told her.”
“Or she still has access to the company lawyers.”
Poppy sat in a laundry basket, kicking her heels against the plastic sides.
Emily watched her pull a washcloth over her head and squeal.
For one minute, they both laughed.
Then Poppy dropped the cloth and looked surprised that it stayed dropped.
Emily handed it back.
“She testified once already,” Emily said. “Every time she let police believe Daniel was alone.”
“I know.”
“If I trust her and she changes her story, Marcus walks.”
“Maybe.”
“If I refuse, she could destroy the messages.”
“Also maybe.”
Rosalind sat on the floor beside the basket.
“Paperwork problem.”
“This is not a paperwork problem.”
“It will be after she signs an affidavit.”
Emily turned her ring once.
“Tell Lena. Then Detective Keene.”
“You'll meet Barbara?”
“Not alone.”
“And custody?”
“She withdraws the emergency motion before I discuss anything.”
Rosalind nodded.
“That will tell us whether she wants Poppy or control.”
Emily picked up the yellow sleeper.
Daniel had bought it because the feet looked like ducks.
Poppy had worn it the first night she slept four straight hours. Daniel woke Emily anyway to announce the achievement.
She pressed the soft fabric between her fingers.
“Do you think she loved him?” Rosalind asked.
“Yes.”
Emily folded the sleeper carefully.
“That's what makes this worse.”
Her phone buzzed.
A blocked number left a voicemail.
Marcus's voice filled the room when she played it.
“Emily, Barbara isn't well. Be careful what promises you accept from a frightened woman.”
He knew Barbara had reached out.
May you like
Before Emily had answered.
Keep reading Part 13 — because Marcus begins moving money the moment Barbara stops protecting him.
