Terrence leaned back in his chair.
“For what?”
“For how I treated your wife and daughter.”
He waited.
Evelyn continued.
“I was rude, dismissive, and unreasonable. I refused to move my coat, even though the seat belonged to Maya. I spoke to Danielle as though she had done something wrong simply by asking me to move. And I said things about the baby that I shouldn't have said.”
Terrence's expression softened slightly, though his voice remained firm.
“Yes. You did.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Evelyn exhaled.
“I was angry before I boarded. I had received a difficult call from my attorney about my mother's estate, and I was exhausted. When Danielle asked me to move the coat, I reacted as though she were demanding something from me.”
“That doesn't explain why you kept escalating.”
“No. It doesn't.”
Terrence waited.
Evelyn's voice became quieter.
“When Maya found the photograph, I panicked. I recognized your name, and I remembered the investigation. I remembered how I blamed my mother for everything that happened. I didn't want to talk about it in front of strangers, so I denied knowing you.”
“Why did you keep the photograph?”
“My mother gave it to me before she died. She said it was a reminder of the people who had stood by her.”
Terrence closed his eyes briefly.
“She was proud of that team.”
“I know that now.”
“Do you?”
Evelyn was silent.
Terrence continued.
“Margaret respected you, Evelyn. She loved you. But she also knew she had failed to explain some things about her work, and she regretted that.”
Evelyn's voice trembled.
“She never told me.”
“She may not have known how.”
“I thought she was ashamed of what happened.”
“She was ashamed that the investigation damaged her reputation, but she wasn't ashamed of the operation. She believed the decisions she made that night were necessary.”
Evelyn began to cry quietly.
Terrence let the silence remain for a moment.
Then she said, “I believed the accusations.”
“I know.”
“I argued with her. I told her she was selfish. I stopped visiting.”
“Those were painful years.”
“I know.”
Terrence's voice softened.
“She never stopped loving you.”
Evelyn cried harder.
For several moments, neither spoke.
Then Terrence said, “I want you to understand something about this morning.”
“I do.”
“Danielle and Maya didn't know your history. They were simply trying to sit in their assigned seats. You treated them as though they had no right to be there.”
“I know.”
“You can't undo that by apologizing to me.”
“I understand.”
“You need to take responsibility with them, too.”
“I will.”
Terrence paused.
“And you need to understand that your mother's legacy isn't something you can claim when it comforts you and ignore when it challenges you.”
Evelyn was quiet.