Chapter 9 - Caroline Speaks
The courtroom was packed.
Reporters filled every available seat.
Joan sat beside Marianne with Betty safely away from the courthouse.
Roman sat near the prosecutors.
Michael entered wearing an expensive suit.
He looked smaller without power surrounding him.
But he smiled when he saw Roman.
That smile disappeared when Caroline’s voice played.
Static filled the courtroom.
Then:
“Mom, listen carefully. Michael knows I found the accounts. If anything happens to me, it wasn’t an accident.”
Roman did not move.
Joan watched his hands instead.
They trembled.
Evidence followed.
Victor testified about the criminal network.
Financial experts traced the accounts.
A mechanic testified that Caroline’s brake line had been deliberately compromised.
Security footage placed one of Michael’s associates near her vehicle hours before the crash.
No single piece told the entire story.
Together, they created one Michael could no longer easily explain away.
Months later, after further proceedings, Michael was convicted on multiple charges connected to the criminal enterprise and Caroline’s death.
Roman did not celebrate.
He walked outside and stood on the courthouse steps.
Joan joined him.
“It’s over.”
“No.”
He looked at the sky.
“But it can finally become the past.”
That evening they went to Caroline’s grave.
Betty placed lavender beside the stone.
Marianne cried openly.
Joan touched the name engraved there.
“My sister.”
The words still felt unfamiliar.
But they no longer felt impossible.
Betty slipped her hand into Joan’s.
“Do you think Mommy knows?”
“Knows what?”
“That we found you.”
Joan swallowed.
“I’d like to think so.”
Betty nodded thoughtfully.
“Then she probably picked you.”
Roman smiled faintly.
Joan looked at him.
“Don’t encourage her.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re thinking it.”
“I’ve learned not to argue with Betty.”
“Smart.”
Life settled afterward.
Not into perfection.
Into something better.
Normality.
Joan enrolled in hospitality management courses after Roman suggested she was too talented to spend her entire career waiting tables.
She refused his money.
So Roman found another solution.
He introduced her to a legitimate scholarship foundation.
Joan discovered this only after being accepted.
“You manipulated me.”
“I provided information.”
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Six months later, Joan became assistant manager at the Silver Oak.
She also moved out of her old apartment.
Not into Roman’s mansion.
That caused a memorable argument.
“I’m not moving in because your daughter has decided we’re getting married.”
“She made a presentation.”
“She made a 14-slide presentation.”
“It was persuasive.”
“Slide 9 was literally a drawing of us holding babies.”
Roman tried not to smile.
“She believes in long-term planning.”
Joan rented a small townhouse 10 minutes away.
Roman respected the decision.
Mostly.
Betty spent so many nights there that one bedroom effectively became hers.
Their relationship grew without urgency.
Joan needed independence.
Roman needed to learn that love was not something protected by controlling every variable.
They fought.
They apologized.
They learned.
On the anniversary of Caroline’s death, Roman asked Joan to meet him in the garden.
She expected sadness.
Instead, she found hundreds of tiny lights strung between the trees.
Betty stood beside the fountain holding a small box.
Joan stopped.
“No.”
Roman smiled.
“You haven’t even heard the question.”
“I know that box.”
Betty whispered loudly, “Get on your knee, Daddy.”
Roman obeyed.
Joan covered her mouth.
“I spent years believing loving someone meant keeping them safe,” he said. “Then you walked into my life and taught me it also means trusting them to stand beside you.”
Joan’s eyes filled.
Roman opened the box.
Inside was a simple diamond ring.
“Joan Rhodes, will you marry me?”
Betty immediately added:
“Say yes.”
Joan laughed through tears.
She looked at Caroline’s garden.
At Betty.
At the man kneeling before her.
Then she said:
May you like
“Yes.”
Betty screamed so loudly that security came running.
