"Justice will not be served until those who are unaffected are as outraged as those who are." – Benjamin Franklin
The rumours of Victoria's return into the Grayson family fold circulated as the summer season fast approached the Hampton's and, as expected, a media circus entailed, demanding that the American public be provided absolute confirmation of the matriarch's return.
"No comment," Charlotte repetitively muttered, as she battled through the wall of news reporters camped outside her childhood home. They were in grievous protest of the Grayson's radio silence. Her father had refused to publish a statement, far too proud to bow down to external forces but it only provoked more backlash. An exhale of relief escaped her body, once she stepped onto property lines and the reporters were locked out.
Victoria welcomed her with a demure frown, "Your father assured me security would deal with them." She distanced herself from any window but the protest was audible from inside Grayson Manor, reminiscent of Daniel's murder trial and how easily the public had turned on them.
Charlotte furiously removed her coat, "They can't be prosecuted, if they're not on property lines."
The claustrophobia squeezed, like a noose around Victoria's neck, no matter how broad Grayson Manor was and the frustration threatened any common sense. She refused to be hounded like an animal. "I'll speak to your father and have him release a statement." The media reaction to her potential return interfered with her grandchildren's lives enough, and Victoria feared Charlotte's increasing disdain for her. "This madness needs to end." Charlotte didn't respond, though she didn't disagree with the sentiment. "Charlotte," Victoria's hand gripped her, before she could fade into the background. "I hope you know how sorry I am for the chaos I have introduced into your lives. My intentions were never to cause trouble."
"Well, as long as your intentions were honourable, you shouldn't be punished," Charlotte sarcastically retorted, her eyes narrowed. "Why do you think they're out there, Victoria? They're there because my father, your son, ruffled enough feathers at the S.E.C. to ensure you escaped justice for what you did to David Clarke!"
"They're out there because they like to make white noise, Charlotte." Her father's voice boomed in defence of his mother, as she stumbled upon their discussion from the kitchen. "I didn't ruffle any feathers, your grandmother was cleared of any charges because her role in the conspiracy was minimal, at best, and the real perpetrator is behind bars." Daniel appreciated the defiance in Charlotte's eyes, reminiscent of his own once before. "The people outside those gates need to see that we cannot be divided, and the entire scandal will die down. If you don't think you manage that, ask your self whether it's because you're really outraged over what happened to David Clarke, or because your loyalty is torn between your mother and me."
"Dad, one of the things you drilled into me was the importance of honesty and justice. When I broke Sophia's favourite doll because I was jealous, you were the one who convinced me to confess and accept the consequence of my action." Charlotte's defiance rose, stronger than ever. "You explained that justice wasn't about an-eye-for-an-eye, but about the acceptance of mistakes and the suitable punishment. Why doesn't that apply here?"
"Your grandmother regrets everything that happened, you know that."
"Does she regret what happened, or does she regret that she got caught?" Charlotte snarled, before turning on her heels and storming up the stairs.
Daniel speechlessly witnessed the sorrowful expression on his mother's face, and exhaled, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she pursed her lips, as the whim of brunette curls flew up the stairs and disappeared behind her bedroom door slammed shut. "She has every reason to be furious. She reminds me of your sister so much, sometimes it's eerie." To strike conversation with Charlotte only became more and more painful with every unsuccessful attempt, if only because of her resistance to Victoria's attempt to bond. "Daniel, I'm so sorry for the tension I've caused in your family." Matters were only made worse by the fact that Victoria hadn't created a bond with any of the children, beside Sophia; Hannah regularly questioned why her aunt Charlotte hadn't returned from heaven, too, and Jacob appeared reluctant to even share eye contact.
"Things will get easier," he offered meagre reassurance. "Dinner's almost done. I cooked," Daniel added and his mother stifled a smile. "I realise you probably remember the days when I only knew how to burn toast but Emily taught me a few tricks..."
"Really?" Again, remembrance of Conrad's words added fuel to the fire of her distrust for Daniel's wife. "Well, I look forward to dinner." Victoria quietly followed Charlotte's path up the stairs and, against her better judgement, knocked on the door. At permission to enter, Victoria pushed the door open and, once again, found Charlotte reading The Catcher in the Rye. "One of the themes of that book is teen confusion; Holden ends the book with as much confusion as he started with. His views didn't find a different perspective, so the questions he had remained," Victoria stood beside the bed, uncomfortably. "I'm sure you have questions, Charlotte, so why don't you ask me?"
"I know all I need to know," Charlotte frowned, in annoyance, as she discarded the book. "You framed David Clarke, the man you claimed to be the love of your life, yet couldn't provide you with the wealth and power Conrad could. You not only allowed, but assisted, your husband and one of the most dangerous organisations in the world to carry out an act of terrorism on American soil. In court, you testified for the prosecution and, consequently, ripped my mother away from the one parent she had left. She ensured she would locked into an institution for her childhood because she was the one person in the whole world who knew your sordid little secret and could expose you?" Charlotte paused briefly, for air. "Did I miss anything?"
"You failed to mention that David Clarke fathered my second child," Victoria nonchalantly added, and Charlotte's eyes widened, disbelieving. "I learnt I had fallen pregnant on the eve of David's arrest. I wanted to warn him before they could arrest him but..."
"Does dad know?"
"The whole family learnt the truth at the time of your parents engagement," Victoria confirmed. "It broke Charlotte's heart; that's what spiralled her abuse of prescription pills. Your father has never trusted me the same way since." She rubbed her forehead, uneasily. "Your mother suffered a great loss because of my actions but I suffered, too. Worse still, I lived with the knowledge that I was partly responsible. If I had only been stronger, our lives would have all turned out very differently. Charlotte's addiction wouldn't have had such a hold over her, and she would be here." No doubt, David would have shown Charlotte the unconditional love Victoria had never been able to provide their daughter. "Believe me, Charlotte, there's no greater punishment than the realisation that your own actions may have inadvertently caused your own child's death. I know," she sadly reported, "Because I'm overwhelmed with guilt."
"I don't know what to say..." Charlotte admitted, for once, not fiery in her response.
"You don't need to say anything," her grandmother realised how overwhelming the conversation must have been. "But, please, know I waited every day since David was arrested, hoping the truth would be exposed." The wait had been unbearable.
Charlotte paralleled Victoria's earlier action and reached out for her hand to hold her back, before she could leave the bedroom. A half-hearted smile spread across her lips, in a silent form of acceptance, and she pulled the older woman into their first ever embrace. None of Victoria's pain made the slightest difference to how Charlotte regarded the injustice David Clarke suffered, but she started to wonder if anything ever would.