SECOND THOUGHT

SECOND THOUGHT
Hayden's Pov

Michelle was in the kitchen making lunch when I brought up Beatrice again. Two weeks had passed since her visit and Beatrice had been calling asking to come back.

"What do you think?" Michelle asked. "Should we let her visit again?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. "Part of me thinks we should give her a chance. But another part thinks we're making a mistake."

"She seemed genuine," Michelle said. "And she is cooperating with the FBI."

"Or she's just trying to save herself," I said. "Maybe she's only helping now because she knows she'll go to prison if she doesn't."

"That's possible," Michelle admitted. "But does it matter why she's helping as long as she is?"

"It matters to me," I said. "I want to know if she's really changed or if this is just another act."

Michelle put down the sandwich she was making and looked at me. "What are you afraid of?"

"That she'll hurt you again," I said. "That she'll hurt the twins. That we'll let her in and she'll go back to being the person she was before."

"That's a valid fear," Michelle said. "But Hayden we can't live our whole lives being afraid. At some point we have to take a risk and trust people."

"Why?" I asked. "Why do we have to trust her? She doesn't deserve it."

"Maybe not," Michelle said. "But everyone deserves a second chance. Even people who've done terrible things."

"Not everyone," I said. "Victor Kane doesn't deserve a second chance. Elliot didn't deserve one."

"That's different," Michelle said. "They never tried to change. They never admitted what they did was wrong. Beatrice is at least trying."

"Is she though?" I asked. "Or is she just saying what we want to hear?"

Michelle sighed. "I don't know Hayden. I don't have all the answers. All I know is that holding onto anger and resentment is exhausting. And I'm tired of being angry."

"I'm not angry," I said. "I'm cautious. There's a difference."

"Is there?" Michelle asked. "Because it sounds like anger to me."

I sat down at the kitchen table. "I just don't want to make a mistake. I don't want to let someone into our lives who will hurt us."

"Then we set boundaries," Michelle said. "We let Beatrice visit but we watch her carefully. If she does anything that makes us uncomfortable we cut her off. Simple as that."

"And what about the twins?" I asked. "What if they get attached to her and then we have to cut her off? That will hurt them."

"They're babies," Michelle said. "They won't remember. And if Beatrice proves she's trustworthy then they'll have a grandmother who loves them. That's worth the risk."

I wanted to argue more but Michelle was right. We could not live in fear forever. At some point we had to start trusting people again.

"Fine," I said. "She can visit. But I'm watching her. And if she does one thing that feels wrong we're done."

"Deal," Michelle agreed.

Beatrice came over that Saturday. She brought more gifts for the twins and flowers for Michelle. She seemed nervous like she knew we were still unsure about her.

"Thank you for letting me come back," Beatrice said. "I know it's not easy for you."

"No it's not," I said bluntly. "But we're willing to try. For the twins."

"That's all I ask," Beatrice said.

We sat in the living room and watched Beatrice play with Hope and James. She was gentle with them. Patient. She read them books and stacked blocks and made silly faces that made them laugh.

"She's good with them," Michelle whispered to me.

"Yeah," I admitted. "She is."

After a while Michelle took the twins upstairs for a nap. I was left alone with Beatrice.

"Can we talk?" Beatrice asked.

"About what?" I said.

"About Elliot," Beatrice said. "About what a terrible mother I was to him."

"I don't want to talk about my father," I said.

"I know," Beatrice said. "But I need to. I need you to understand that I failed him. Long before he became a monster I failed him."

"How?" I asked.

"After Eleanor died he was broken," Beatrice said. "He needed therapy. He needed help processing his grief. But I told him to be strong. To move on. I pushed him to date and remarry before he was ready."

"So it's your fault he became a predator?" I asked. "That's convenient."

"No," Beatrice said firmly. "Elliot made his own choices. He chose to hurt people. That's on him. But I enabled it. I saw the warning signs and ignored them. I could have gotten him help and I didn't."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"Because I don't want to make the same mistakes with you and your children," Beatrice said. "I want to be better. I want to be the grandmother Hope and James deserve."

I looked at her. Really looked at her. She looked older than I remembered. Tired. Sad. Like the weight of her guilt was crushing her.

"I don't know if I can forgive you," I said. "For what you did to Michelle. For enabling my father."

"I'm not asking for forgiveness," Beatrice said. "I'm asking for a chance to do better. To be better."

"One chance," I said. "That's all you get. You mess up once and you're out of our lives forever."

"I understand," Beatrice said. "And thank you. Thank you for giving me even that much."

Michelle came back downstairs. "Twins are asleep. How are things down here?"

"Fine," I said. "We were just talking."

Beatrice stayed for another hour. She told us about the other cases she was helping the FBI with. About men being arrested. About victims finally getting justice.

"There are so many of them," Beatrice said. "So many girls who were hurt. I should have done something years ago."

"But you're doing something now," Michelle said. "That counts for something."

After Beatrice left Michelle and I cleaned up the living room.

"What do you think?" Michelle asked. "Can we trust her?"

"I don't know," I said. "But I think we can give her a chance. A small chance."

"That's all I'm asking for," Michelle said.