Chapter 17 - POPPY AT TEN
Poppy turned ten and asked to hear Mara’s recording.
“No.”
She glared.
“Why?”
“Because you’re ten.”
“It has my voice.”
“One second of it.”
“It’s about Mom.”
“Yes.”
“I deserve to know.”
That word.
Deserve.
I understood.
We compromised.
Her therapist and I prepared a written age-appropriate summary.
Mara discovered financial misconduct.
Celestine tried to scare her by arranging dangerous interference with her car.
Mara recorded part of a confrontation.
Celestine later hid the truth.
The car problem contributed to the crash.
No transcript.
No audio of Mara terrified.
Poppy read it.
Then:
“Did Mom know she might die?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“As sure as I can be.”
The morning recording helped.
Mara thought she was being dramatic.
Expected to reach the mechanic.
No goodbye.
That mattered.
Poppy cried.
Then got angry.
“Why put USB in my doll?”
“Because she needed somewhere Celestine wouldn’t search.”
“She did search.”
“Eventually.”
“Why tell me?”
“She told you not to let Celestine find the doll.”
“That was bad.”
I stopped.
“Yes.”
Poppy looked surprised.
“You think Mommy did bad?”
“She put a secret on a small child.”
“But she was scared.”
“Yes.”
“Still bad?”
“Still too much.”
She thought for a long time.
Then:
“I can love her and think she made mistake.”
“Yes.”
I wanted to hug every therapist who had kept us alive long enough for that sentence.
Poppy kept Dolly.
Burn mark.
Visible seam.
No USB.
At school, she refused an assignment asking students to bring “their most meaningful object.”
She brought a rock instead.
Why?
“Dolly doesn’t need to be content.”
May you like
Ten years old.
Already smarter than the internet.
