Chapter 7 - The Final Days
With Lydia in police custody and her bail set at $500,000 due to the flight risk and severity of the charges, peace finally returned to my parents’ house.
I hired round-the-clock private nursing care for my father using his unfrozen estate funds. I moved into the guest bedroom, taking over his care completely.
Mom remained in the house, but she was a shell of her former self. Without Lydia to direct her, she drifted through the rooms like a ghost, terrified to speak to me, realizing that her silence during my assault could easily lead to accomplice charges if the District Attorney chose to press them.
Over the next six weeks, Dad’s health continued to decline, but his mind remained clear, comforted by the knowledge that he was safe.
Every afternoon, I sat by his bed, reading him articles from the newspaper, holding his hand, and listening to stories about his youth that I had never heard before.
One evening, as the sun set outside his window, Dad looked at me with tired, peaceful eyes.
“Cassie,” he whispered softly.
“I’m here, Dad,” I said, leaning closer.
“I’m sorry,” he said, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I was weak for so many years. I let them treat you like you didn't matter. I should have protected you when you were a little girl.”
I squeezed his hand, wiping the tear from his face. “You saved my life, Dad. You called Mrs. Higgins when no one else would. You gave me the courage to put that camera up. You protected me when it counted most.”
He smiled—a small, tired, beautiful smile.
“I love you, Cassie,” he whispered.
May you like
“I love you too, Dad.”
That night, surrounded by peace and dignity, my father passed away quietly in his sleep.
