Chapter 18 - MARGUERITE’S DAUGHTER
Marguerite had one daughter, Cecily.
She was eleven when the banquet happened.
Old enough to remember everything.
Young enough to have been powerless over most of it.
She contacted Faye through therapists years later.
Not directly.
She wrote:
I knew Aunt Marguerite told me we were the important grandchildren. I liked it. I didn’t understand why it hurt you until later.
Faye was twelve.
She read the letter.
“Do I have to answer?”
“No.”
“Do you think she’s bad?”
“No.”
“Do you think she liked us being hungry?”
“I don’t know.”
Faye thought.
“I think she liked being first.”
Maybe.
That was different.
Six months later, Faye agreed to meet.
Cecily apologized.
Faye asked:
“Did you know there was food for us?”
Cecily nodded.
“Mom said you had to learn.”
“What?”
“That your mom couldn’t disappear and come back expecting the same place.”
Faye laughed without humor.
“We were children.”
“I know.”
They did not become close immediately.
Over years, they became cousins.
Sometimes warm.
Sometimes distant.
No adult forced reconciliation because it looked good in trust reports.
Cecily inherited lawful economic interests from Marguerite.
No one stripped them as punishment.
She did not control the residence trust.
Independent rules applied equally.
That mattered.
May you like
My children learned something too.
Justice was not switching who got scraps.
