The number was unfamiliar, but the message was not: “Rebecca, it’s Madeline. Can we talk?”
I hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of years of strained family dynamics pressing down on me. Madeline and I had never been particularly close, not because of anything specific between us, but due to the relentless tension Diana brewed.
Still, curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to respond.
“Sure,” I texted back. “What’s up?”
A few moments later, my phone rang with a call from the same number.
I answered it to the sound of Madeline’s slightly nervous voice on the other end. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what happened with the beach house.
I didn’t know Mom was going to do that, and I definitely didn’t know she was going to tell the police.
It’s not fair, and I don’t want to be caught in the middle of it all.”
Her sincerity caught me off guard. For a moment, I felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, not everyone in the family was against me. “Thanks, Madeline.
I appreciate that.
What happened next changed everything…
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