Chapter 12: The White Blanket
Chapter 12: The White Blanket
The next morning, the heavy door to the hospital room opened with a slow, hesitant creak.
Margaret Bennett stood in the hallway.
She brought no massive diamond jewelry. She brought no private driver. She wore no sharp, arrogant expressions of superiority.
She wore a plain, tan trench coat, her hair slightly messy, and she held a small, simple white baby blanket clutched tightly in her hands.
Olivia’s father, Paul, immediately stood up and blocked the doorway with his body.
Margaret lowered her head, fully accepting the physical barrier.
“I deserve that, Paul. I know I do.”
Olivia, sitting upright in the hospital bed with IV fluids dripping into her arm, looked at the older woman for a long, silent minute.
“Let her in, Dad.”
Paul hesitated, his jaw tight, but he stepped aside.
Margaret entered slowly, standing near the door like a stray dog asking for permission to simply exist in the warm room.
“I listened to the whole audio recording on Jason's computer last night,” Margaret whispered, her eyes rapidly filling with fresh tears. “He used me.”
“He used your pride,” Olivia corrected softly, refusing to let Margaret play the total victim.
Margaret nodded, a sob catching in her throat. “Yes. He did.”
May you like
She placed the neatly folded white blanket on the edge of the visitor's chair. It was beautiful, embroidered with tiny, delicate silver stars.
“I do not ask you to forgive me,” Margaret said, her voice cracking as she looked at Olivia's stomach. “I don't deserve it. I came to say that I will testify in family court if you need me. Against my own son. And against myself.”
