Chapter 8 - Eleven Million Dollars Could Not Buy Twenty-Two Years
Caruso survived.
Jason went to jail.
Neither outcome made Morgana feel the way she expected.
There were no fireworks.
No cinematic satisfaction.
Just paperwork.
Interviews.
Depositions.
Court hearings.
And money.
So much money.
The recovered trust eventually exceeded eleven million dollars after investigators reclaimed properties and frozen accounts.
Morgana stared at the number on the statement.
$11,438,772.14.
She closed the folder.
Roman watched from across his office.
“You look disappointed.”
“I thought millions of dollars would feel different.”
“How?”
“Shinier.”
Roman laughed.
It was rare enough that Morgana stared.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Don't make it weird.”
“You laughed.”
“I laugh.”
“Marco told me you did it once in 2021.”
Roman threw a pen at her.
She ducked.
Their relationship had changed rapidly.
Not because DNA demanded it.
Because they chose it.
Morgana remained at the estate.
Not as a captive.
Not as an obligation.
As family.
She refused Roman's suggestion that she quit the diner permanently.
Instead, she returned one Saturday.
Her manager, Sharon, nearly squeezed the air from her lungs.
“You disappeared!”
“Long story.”
“You dating that man in the black SUV?”
Morgana nearly choked.
“He's my brother.”
Sharon stared.
“The hot one?”
“Please never say that again.”
The diner staff welcomed her back.
But Morgana noticed things she had once accepted.
A waitress crying because she could not afford daycare.
A dishwasher sleeping in his car.
Sharon postponing repairs because the owner refused to spend money.
Morgana began thinking.
The recovered trust did not have to become jewelry.
Or sports cars.
Or giant houses.
Money could become exits.
She understood exits.
Three months later, Morgana purchased the diner.
She did not rename it after herself.
She called it Evelyn's.
Everyone received raises.
Health insurance followed.
A small emergency fund was created for employees facing domestic crises.
Roman read the business plan.
“You're going to lose money the first year.”
“I know.”
“That doesn't bother you?”
“No.”
He looked proud.
Morgana hated how much that mattered.
She also started a nonprofit offering short-term housing and legal aid to women escaping financially abusive homes.
The first property was a renovated twelve-unit building.
Roman attempted to donate the entire cost.
Morgana refused.
“You don't get to solve everything with a check.”
Roman frowned.
“Why not?”
“Because then you'll become emotionally lazy.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means come paint.”
Roman stared at her.
“You want me to paint apartments?”
“Yes.”
“I run six companies.”
“Saturday. Nine a.m.”
Marco nearly fell over laughing.
Roman showed up at 8:55.
In old jeans.
He was terrible at painting.
Morgana took photographic evidence.
Life began moving.
Then Jason requested to see her.
She ignored the first three letters.
Then the fourth arrived.
I don't deserve forgiveness.
I only want to tell you one thing I should have said twenty years ago.
Morgana went.
The prison visitation room smelled like disinfectant.
Jason looked smaller.
Gray.
He sat behind thick glass.
Morgana picked up the phone.
“So?”
Jason stared at her.
“Your mother tried to leave me when you were two.”
“I know.”
“She packed at night.”
Morgana waited.
“I caught her.”
Jason swallowed.
“I told her if she took you, I'd tell Caruso where she was.”
Morgana's chest tightened.
“She stayed because of me.”
“Yes.”
Jason cried.
“She hated me by then.”
Morgana said nothing.
“She never hated you.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
Jason looked at her.
Morgana’s voice remained calm.
“She spent her last years trying to protect me from the men around her.”
Jason lowered his head.
“I loved her.”
“No.”
He looked up.
“You loved having her.”
Jason began crying harder.
“Maybe.”
Morgana had expected anger.
Instead she felt tired.
Jason whispered, “Can you forgive me?”
She thought carefully.
“I can stop carrying you.”
Hope entered his face.
“Does that mean—”
“It means I’m done letting what you did decide what I feel tomorrow.”
His hope faded.
“Will you come back?”
“I don't know.”
“Morgana.”
She placed her hand against the glass.
Not affectionately.
As a farewell.
“You were supposed to protect me.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t.”
Jason closed his eyes.
Morgana stood.
“Morgana.”
She looked back.
“I'm sorry.”
For once, he sounded like he understood the words.
Morgana nodded.
Then walked away.
Outside, Roman leaned against the SUV.
“You didn't need to wait.”
“Yes, I did.”
“You have meetings.”
“I canceled them.”
Morgana looked at him.
“Emotionally less lazy.”
“Don't push it.”
She laughed.
Roman opened the door.
Before Morgana entered, she looked back toward the prison.
Roman noticed.
“You okay?”
Morgana thought about it.
“Yes.”
And she was.
May you like
Not because the past had changed.
Because it no longer owned the future.
