At that point, I felt a strange satisfaction for the first time in years. Months passed, and I went on with my life. I didn’t expect to see her again until the morning my receptionist buzzed through the intercom.
“There’s a Miss. Diane here,” she said. “She doesn’t have an appointment, but she says it’s urgent.”
I almost told her to send her away, but then something stopped me. “I’ll be there,” I said.
When I stepped into the lobby, Diane was standing there in a plain gray sweater with no pearls or makeup.
“I came to apologize,” she said quietly. “You didn’t deserve what I did. I ruined everything I touched… and for what? Money that never made me happy.”
I folded my arms. “Why now?”
She swallowed. “Because I saw your name in the paper. Your company donated to the foster kids’ shelter downtown. You’re helping the children I never cared about. I couldn’t help one, and you’re helping dozens.” Her voice broke. “Your mother would be proud.”
For a long moment, I just looked at her. The woman who’d stolen my childhood now stood before me, stripped of everything but her guilt.
