The Broken Mother by Thomas Fincham

Author:Thomas Fincham [Fincham, Thomas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-17T16:00:00+00:00

FIFTY-FIVE

Callaway got up to leave the bench when he saw a man walking purposefully toward him. The man had appeared from the other side of the facility. He had on blue overalls and black boots. He was exceptionally tall and wiry thin. His cornrows went all the way down the back of his neck.

“Mister,” he said in a southern accent. “I saw you talking to Mr. Munro just now.”

“Okay,” Callaway said.

“My name is August Livingston, and I work at the facility as an orderly.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Livingston?”

“Hope talked a lot about you.”

“I’m not sure what she told you,” Callaway said, suddenly eager to leave, “but I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to help her.”

“I understand,” Livingston said, politely. “I just want you to know that Hope isn’t crazy. Well, not anymore, at least.”

Callaway stared at him.

“Mr. Munro is a good employer, but I’m afraid he has his own agenda.”

Callaway’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of agenda?”

“The facility is privately run. It relies on donors to fund its operation. But it also gets money from groups based on the number of patients it cares for.”

“What kind of groups?” Callaway asked.

“Mental health advocates.”

“Okay…”

“What I’m trying to say is that Hope’s story is high profile. The media is still interested in her. Only a couple of months ago, a crew from a tabloid news program came by to speak to her. It was on the anniversary of her son’s murder. Hope told them, like she tells everyone who’ll listen, that she doesn’t remember hurting her son. After spending so much time with her, I can tell you, sir, that she’s not faking it when she says she doesn’t remember. But the news program twisted her words and made it look like she was still delusional.”

“And you think Munro doesn’t want Hope released from Camden Mental Health?”

“The longer he can keep her under his care,” Livingston said, “the more money he can raise for the facility.”

“Is that what you meant when you said he has an agenda?”

Livingston nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Callaway thought for a moment.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Livingston looked down at his feet as if embarrassed. “Over the years, Hope and I have gotten to know each other quite well. She’s not the cold-blooded killer people make her out to be. She once accidently sat on a butterfly, and she cried for hours over its death.” He paused and then said, “She’s a kind and gentle person. She is also very trusting, which people have used against her.”

Callaway understood the real reason Livingston was speaking to him. He said, “I’m not one of those people. I’m not going to take advantage of her. She came to me, not the other way around. I want to help her, but I’m afraid I may not be able to help her like she wants me to.”

“I don’t believe she killed her son,” Livingston said.

“According to the law, she did,” Callaway said.

“I know,” Livingston said. “She tortures herself daily over what happened all those years ago.

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