Chapter 15 - THE MOTHER’S CONFESSIONWhile Derek sat rotting in holding, Sophie and I drove out to the bleak, run-down extended-stay motel on the outskirts of the city where my parents had been hiding.
The motel sign flickered with a buzzing neon yellow light against the grey twilight sky.
When we knocked on the door of Room 112, it took nearly a full minute before the latch slid open. Helen peered out from the crack, her hair unbrushed, wearing a faded bathrobe that looked three sizes too big for her shrinking frame.
When she saw my face standing under the harsh porch light, she gasped, stepping back as if she had seen a ghost.
"Naomi..." she whispered, her hands trembling. "What... what are you doing here? Did... did something happen to Derek?"
"Derek is currently in a holding cell downtown facing felony burglary and weapon charges," I said plainly, stepping past her into the cramped, dreary room without waiting for an invitation.
My father was sitting on the edge of the sagging double bed, staring blankly at a small, flickering television screen playing a late-night infomercial. He didn't even turn his head when I walked in.
Helen burst into tears, stumbling forward to grab my arm, but I stepped smoothly out of her reach, letting her hand drop uselessly into the empty air.
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"You came to gloat," she sobbed, sinking down onto the edge of the mattress next to my broken father. "You came to watch us rot in this hellhole because we couldn't pay our bills."
"I didn't come to gloat, Mom," I said, opening my leather portfolio and pulling out a single, neatly typed legal document. "I came to give you a choice."
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