Page 114 of The Voice We Find

If this confession had come a year ago, or even six months ago, I can only imagine how I would have reacted. The resentment, the hurt, the bitterness, the re-victimization I would have clung to like a trophy of validation. None of those would move me any closer to a place of healing. And they certainly wouldn’t do that for Natalie, either.

“I forgive you,” I say quietly at first, and then again with deeper conviction. “I forgive you.”

She covers her face with both hands, and for the first time since she told me of her husband’s arrest, she falls apart.

I wrap her and her unborn child in my arms. “I told you I’d be here for you when you needed me. I meant it then, and I mean it now. You are not alone in this.”

We stay this way for nearly a minute as the scratchy poof of Natalie’s full skirt doubles as a protective shield against the world.

If only it could shield us against the familiar bellow we hear approaching, despite several authoritative protests for him to calm down.

We’ve just pulled apart when the door to our room bursts open and an angry pointer finger is jabbed at my sister-in-law.

“What did you do to my son?”

29

Sophie

Within a blink of my father’s nasty accusation, Agent Terrell inserts himself into my father’s personal space. Honestly, I’m beginning to like this guy more and more.

“As I warned you in the hall, Mr. Wilder, you can either behave in a reasonable and respective manner, or you can join your son in custody on a charge of disorderly conduct. I won’t ask a third time. Are you clear on the expectations?”

By the way my father’s wiry gray hair sticks up like the tail feathers on an unhinged rooster, I can tell he’s in no mood to be trifled with. But Agent Terrell looks about as interested in my father’s opinion as I am in making friends with the headscarf lady at the front desk.

“I’m clear,” my father mutters.

“Good, then I’m going to suggest we relocate to a conference room better suited to fit the needs of your family. Please refrain from any conversation until I’ve secured us behind a closed door.”

We all nod our agreement, even my sour-faced father.

Agent Terrell certainly knows how to command a room.

“Thank you, Agent Terrell.” My mother steps out from around my father’s back for the first time. “As you can imagine, Jasper’s call to us came as quite a shock. We’re just trying to get some answers on what exactly happened.”

“I understand.” He dips his chin, opens the door, and gives us a non-verbal cue to follow the leader. We walk single file to a room on the back side of the station. Upon entering, I note the fifty percent increase in furniture, including a long conference table with cushioned chairs and a slight upgrade to the dingy white walls.

These walls are painted the shade of a medical bandage.

Natalie takes a seat next to me and across from my parents. I don’t miss the way she keeps her gaze low. I understand her trepidation; I’ve lived it. But whatever tensions I felt growing up in a home with Jasper as my older brother pale in comparison to what she must have dealt with as his wife. If I could go back in time, I would step in so much sooner. I would ask more questions. I would listen to her voice the way I wished someone would have listened to mine. But unlike me, Natalie didn’t have an exit plan the minute she became a legal adult. She was sold a lie, and she’s suffered because of it ever since.

“Mr. and Mrs. Wilder,” Agent Terrell begins as he situates himself at the head of the table, a fact that must irk my father to no end. He hates losing control. “As I explained to you previously, your son was arrested on multiple charges—”

“I’d like to speak to my son,” my dad grounds out in a somewhat restrained tone.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

My father starts to stand. “Then who do I see about paying his bail and getting him out of this hellhole?”

“He’s not here, Mr. Wilder. He’s in federal custody. His bail won’t be decided until after his arraignment, roughly forty-eight hours from now.”

“Federal?” Mom gasps.

“Art fraud is a felony, Mother,” I explain. “And like Agent Terrellsaid,fraud is not the only charge Jasper faces.” Given that I was brought into a limited circle of trust due to Natalie’s involvement in the investigation, I don’t know what all I’m allowed to say. But repeating the agent’s earlier statements in a way my mother might hear them seems harmless enough.

“But this has to be a mistake,” my mother implores. “Jasper is a successful businessman and an esteemed leader in our industry. He and his wife have a beautiful marriage and a beautiful home.” She turns her heartbroken gaze on Natalie. “They don’t lack for anything. The family trust has always provided everything they could possibly need. Isn’t that right, Natty? Tell him.”

When my sister-in-law remains silent, Agent Terrell steps up in her defense once again. I wonder if this is the typical level of kindness he shows for an informant or if he’s simply exceptional at his job. “With all due respect, ma’am, money is rarely the only motivating factor in crimes of this caliber.”

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