Chapter 8 - Garrett Tried the Apology He Didn’t Mean
We arrived at the house just before noon.
Reed stayed visibly near the driveway but gave us enough distance to make it clear he was there for peace, not theater.
Garrett came out first.
He was alone.
No Carol.
That alone told me something.
He knew his mother was the larger problem and had decided, too late, to pretend he was a separate species.
“Megan,” he said, lifting both hands. “Can we talk?”
Dana stepped slightly beside me.
“We can all talk,” she said.
His jaw tightened, but he adjusted.
“I shouldn’t have let dinner get out of hand,” he said, looking at me but not at Jonah. “Mom went too far.”
He waited.
He thought that was the shape of an apology.
I said nothing.
He tried again. “I was tired too.”
That was the moment any possibility of easy repair died.
Not because he admitted Carol was wrong.
Because he still believed the central issue was his discomfort.
“Where’s the folder?” I asked.
His eyes flickered.
“In the house.”
“Where’s Carol?”
“Upstairs.”
Dana held out her hand. “Please bring the folder down.”
Garrett laughed once, nervously. “Are we seriously doing this over paperwork?”
“No,” I said. “We’re doing this over the fact that you and your mother opened a locked drawer, took private legal documents, denied my child dinner, and think I owe you a softer tone.”
For the first time, he looked at Reed.
Then back at me.
And I watched the exact second he realized this wasn’t last night anymore.
No spontaneous rage.
No family argument he could blur later.
This had become a record.
He went inside.
May you like
When he came back, Carol was behind him.
And the blue folder was in her hand again.
