Chapter 22 - GREG’S LETTER
Greg wrote Lily from prison when she was twenty.
He had sent letters earlier.
Nora stored them unread according to court instructions.
Now the choice belonged to Lily.
She opened one.
Greg wrote:
I told myself everything I did was to keep us together after your mother died.
Lily stopped and said:
“That sounds like him.”
She continued.
He admitted fraud.
Admitted the boots.
Admitted he knew Dana put insects inside.
Admitted tightening them after Lily begged him not to.
He wrote that he never intended bites to become severe.
He described panic when Alma threatened the hospital.
He admitted the lifetime annuity had become an obsession.
Then:
I loved you, but I made your sickness useful to me.
Lily read that sentence twice.
He apologized.
He blamed alcohol less than his trial lawyers had.
He wrote:
Drinking made me worse. It did not make the spreadsheet.
That line mattered.
Lily did not reply.
She placed the letter in her archive.
At twenty-two, she read another.
Greg had completed addiction treatment, abuse-accountability programs, and financial restitution work available in prison.
Those actions mattered.
They did not create contact rights.
Lily chose one video meeting at twenty-three.
A therapist facilitated.
Greg looked older.
He said:
“Hi, Lily.”
She answered:
“Don’t call me Lily Strong.”
His face collapsed.
“I won’t.”
“Why did you tell people I had seizures?”
“Because Raymond said neurological symptoms made the case stronger.”
“Did you ever believe your own stories?”
“Sometimes.”
“That’s scary.”
“Yes.”
“Did you believe I was sick?”
“I believed you needed me.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
Greg breathed slowly.
“No. I knew you were healthier than I said.”
Lily nodded.
That answer seemed to matter more than his apology.
She asked:
“Did you love Mom?”
“Yes.”
“Did she trust you?”
“Not with money.”
“Was she right?”
“Yes.”
The meeting lasted eighteen minutes.
May you like
Lily chose no second one that year.
Accountability could exist without reconciliation.
