Chapter 13 - THE LAST BARGAIN
David had spent months insisting he would defeat every allegation.
He accused investigators of exaggerating ordinary business practices.
He blamed Ethan Cole for the questionable transfers.
He claimed Paul Mercer had manipulated records.
He continued asserting that Maya had authorized the disputed guarantees.
But the evidence had become increasingly difficult to dismiss.
His attorney knew it.
The prosecutors knew it.
And eventually, David began to understand it too.
During a confidential meeting, Charles Whitman laid out the situation.
There were bank records.
Witnesses.
Electronic communications.
Expert findings.
And financial transactions that the defense would have to explain.
"Can we win?" David asked.
Whitman chose his words carefully.
"We can present defenses and challenge the government's case."
David leaned forward.
"That's not what I asked."
Whitman looked directly at him.
"No competent attorney can promise you a particular outcome."
David looked away.
Whitman continued.
"You need to understand the risks of going to trial and the consequences of any plea agreement."
David rubbed his forehead.
"What do they want?"
"The government has proposed terms for discussion."
"How much prison time?"
Whitman explained the potential sentencing framework and the substantial uncertainty that remained.
David listened in silence.
Finally, he asked, "Will Maya testify?"
"She may."
David closed his eyes.
"Can you stop her?"
"No."
He opened his eyes.
"She's my wife."
Whitman sighed.
"David, your marriage does not give you control over her testimony."
David stared at the table.
That was the sentence he seemed least prepared to hear.
For most of his adult life, David had treated relationships like contracts in which his financial position guaranteed authority.
He assumed people stayed because he paid for their comfort.
He assumed apologies could be purchased.
He assumed loyalty belonged to whoever controlled the money.
Now the money was disputed.
His reputation had collapsed.
His relationships were unraveling.
And Maya was no longer answering his demands.
During settlement discussions, David eventually agreed to accept responsibility for specified offenses rather than proceed to trial on every charge.
The agreement required factual admissions.
The judge would still determine whether to accept the plea and later impose a sentence.
Restitution and forfeiture questions remained complex.
Maya learned about the development through Rebecca.
She did not celebrate.
She asked only one question.
"Will he have to admit what he did?"
Rebecca nodded.
"To the conduct covered by the plea."
Maya looked out the window.
"Then that's something."
Several weeks later, David requested permission to send another letter.
This one was different.
Shorter.
Without accusations.
Without complaints about the investigation.
Without claims that Maya had ruined him.
It began:
Maya, I have spent a long time trying to blame someone else for what happened.
Maya continued reading.
I blamed work.
I blamed pressure.
I blamed you.
I told myself I deserved a break.
She stopped.
Then read the next paragraph.
I knew Lily had been unwell before I left.
I knew you were trying to reach me.
I convinced myself that if something were truly serious, someone would find another way.
That was cowardly.
Maya's eyes filled.
She kept reading.
I don't know how to ask forgiveness for missing the last days of our daughter's life.
I don't think I have the right to ask.
I know that saying I'm sorry doesn't change anything.
Maya placed the letter on the table.
For a long time, she sat without moving.
Rachel eventually entered.
"Are you okay?"
Maya looked up.
"He finally admitted it."
Rachel glanced at the letter.
"Does that help?"
Maya considered the question.
"A little."
"Do you forgive him?"
Maya looked toward Lily's photograph.
"I don't know."
Rachel nodded.
"You don't have to decide."
Maya folded the letter.
That evening, she took out Lily's blue notebook.
She turned to the list of things Lily wanted to do.
Camping.
Snowman.
Bicycles.
Aquarium.
Picnic.
Maya studied the words.
Then she opened a fresh notebook.
On the first page, she wrote:
Things I can still do in Lily's memory.
She sat for several minutes.
Then she began making a list.
Support families at the hospital.
Create a scholarship for young people interested in science.
Plant a garden.
Visit the aquarium with Rachel.
Learn to ride a bicycle again.
She stopped writing.
Then added one more line.
Build a life where love is something people show.
Maya closed the notebook.
For the first time, the future did not look like a punishment she had to endure.
It still frightened her.
May you like
But it also contained choices.
Choices David could no longer make for her.
