Mr. Carlos called me to his office to explain everything.
“Ms. Sophia, I know it’s not everything you deserved, but it’s a significant victory. You get your house back and receive financial compensation that will ensure your comfort for the coming years.”
I nodded, still processing everything.
“And the inn? The cabins they built?”
“They are part of the property, so they revert to your name as well. Alexis and George will have thirty days to vacate the premises and remove only their personal belongings. Everything that was built or attached to the property stays.”
The irony was not lost on me. They had used my love for Alexis to steal from me. And now all their hard work, all the investment they made, would come back to me. It was poetic justice, but it brought me no joy.
“Mr. Torres,” I asked hesitantly. “What if I wanted to make a different proposal—an out-of-court settlement?”
He looked at me curiously.
“What kind of settlement?”
I spent the next few days lost in thought. The legal victory left a bitter taste. Yes, I had reclaimed what was rightfully mine, but in doing so, I had also lost my daughter. And despite the pain she had caused, the cruelty she had shown, she was still my Alexis—the little girl I used to rock to sleep, the one I comforted through nightmares, the one who once looked at me as if I were her whole world.
Was there a way to seek justice without completely destroying the fragile bond that remained between us?
It was Marcy who helped me see things differently. We were sitting on her porch, sipping tea, when she asked me,
“Sophia, what do you really want? Revenge or peace?”
“It’s not revenge,” I protested. “It’s justice.”
“I know, friend, but sometimes justice and peace are different things. You can be right and still be unhappy. You can win everything and lose what matters most.”
“But she treated me like dirt, Marcy. She gave me a choice between a nursing home and a paddock, like I was an animal.”
“And that was awful,” she agreed. “Unforgivable, even. But answer me this: do you want your daughter to learn a lesson, or do you want her to disappear from your life forever?”
The question caught me off guard. I remained silent for a long time, looking at the cup of tea in my hands.
What did I really want?
“I want her to understand,” I finally replied. “I want her to see how much she hurt me. I want her to feel even just a little bit what I felt when she kicked me out of my own home.”
“Then maybe there’s a way to do that without cutting all ties,” Marcy suggested gently.
That night, I formulated a plan. The next day I called Mr. Carlos and explained what I had in mind. He was silent for a moment. Then he said,
“Miss Sophia, you have a much bigger heart than I imagined. I’ll prepare the documents.”
A week later, Alexis and George received a new notification. It wasn’t an execution of the sentence, but a settlement proposal. They were asked to appear at Mr. Carlos’s office for a meeting.
I arrived at the office a half hour before the appointed time. My heart was pounding. My hands were sweating. Mr. Carlos greeted me with an encouraging smile.
“You’re doing the right thing. Trust yourself.”
When Alexis and George entered the room, the atmosphere froze. My daughter avoided looking at me, sitting as far away as possible. George looked nervous, constantly playing with his hands. Their lawyer, a man in an expensive suit with an arrogant air, maintained a neutral expression.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Carlos started the meeting, “we are here because my client would like to propose a different settlement than the one determined by the court judgment.”
Alexis’s lawyer raised an eyebrow.
“What kind of settlement?”
“Ms. Sophia is willing not to execute the sentence completely under certain conditions,” Mr. Carlos explained, looking at me for confirmation.
I nodded, and he continued.
“First condition: the property reverts to Ms. Sophia’s name as determined by the judge. This is non-negotiable.”
Alexis finally looked at me, her eyes full of contained rage, but she didn’t say anything.
“Second condition,” Mr. Carlos continued, “instead of completely vacating the property, Alexis and George can continue to manage the inn, but now as tenants, paying a fair monthly rent to Ms. Sophia.”
There was a moment of stunned silence. Their lawyer leaned forward.
“And what would the amount of that rent be?”
Mr. Carlos slid a piece of paper across the table.
“Three thousand dollars a month, with annual adjustment. It is below market value considering the size of the property and the commercial potential.”
George took the paper, analyzing the numbers. For the first time, I saw something like hope on his face. But Alexis remained rigid, her arms crossed.
“Third condition,” Mr. Carlos went on, “Ms. Sophia waives the compensation owed to her, but in exchange she will have the right to live on the property whenever she wants, in a room that will be designated exclusively for her. Alexis and George cannot prevent this or question her presence.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Alexis finally spoke, her voice harsh. “She wants to humiliate us, force us to see her every day.”
I felt a pang of sadness at her words, but I maintained my composure. Mr. Carlos looked at me silently, asking permission to continue. I nodded.
“Fourth and final condition,” he said, his voice becoming more serious. “Alexis and George will participate in family therapy sessions with Ms. Sophia once a week for six months. It is non-negotiable.”
“Therapy?” George practically spat out the word. “This is absurd.”
For the first time since they walked in, I spoke.
“It’s this or the full execution of the sentence. You lose everything. The inn, the business you built, the opportunity to salvage something from this situation.”
Alexis faced me, and for the first time I saw something more than rage in her eyes. There was fear there and maybe, just maybe, a flicker of regret.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice slightly breaking. “If it’s to torture me, to rub it in my face that you won.”
“It’s not about winning or losing,” I interrupted her, my own voice choked with emotion. “It’s about trying to save what can still be saved. It’s about giving you the chance to understand what you did. And it’s about me having the courage to look at myself in the mirror and know that I did everything I could.”
Their lawyer asked for a moment to speak privately with his clients. The three of them left the room. Mr. Carlos held my hand.
“Regardless of what they decide, you are being very brave.”
Fifteen minutes later, they returned. Alexis’s eyes were red, as if she had been crying. George looked defeated. The lawyer went straight to the point.
“My clients accept the terms of the settlement.”
We signed the papers that same afternoon. Each signature felt like it weighed a ton. When we finished, Alexis quickly left the room without looking back. George followed her but stopped at the door and turned back to me.
“Miss Sophia,” he said in a low voice, “I’m sorry for the things I said, for the way I treated you.”
It wasn’t a full apology, but it was something.
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