Chapter 4
Rachel was standing when I came out of Mom’s room.
She took one look at my face.
“What did she tell you?”
I kept walking.
“Michael.”
I pressed the elevator button.
She followed me.
“Is Daniel really involved?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
The elevator doors opened.
I stepped inside.
Rachel entered before they closed.
“He was in Dad’s car.”
Her face changed.
“What?”
“He grabbed the steering wheel during an argument. Dad crashed. Daniel ran.”
Rachel covered her mouth.
“And Evelyn knew?”
“Yes.”
“She knew for twelve years?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God.”
The elevator began descending.
I stared at the numbers above the door.
“She helped him disappear.”
Rachel said nothing.
When we reached the lobby, she grabbed my sleeve.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“To the guesthouse?”
I looked at her.
That told me something.
“You knew he was there.”
She froze.
“You knew.”
“I found out yesterday.”
“How?”
“I saw a man through the kitchen window. Your mother told me he was a maintenance worker.”
“And you believed her?”
“No. I checked the security cameras.”
My stomach dropped.
“We have security footage?”
Rachel nodded.
“The outside cameras.”
“Of Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“Of Mom being put outside?”
Her face went pale.
I stared at her.
“There’s footage.”
Rachel swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Did you delete it?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Michael—”
“You will not touch those cameras.”
“I won’t.”
“If Mom decides to report what you did, I’m giving her the footage.”
Rachel’s eyes filled with tears.
“I understand.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
“I said I understand.”
“And when we get home, you stay away from Daniel.”
“Absolutely not.”
I turned.
“This has nothing to do with you.”
“He has been hiding fifty yards from my bedroom.”
“He’s my brother.”
“He may have caused your father’s death.”
“Exactly why you’re staying inside.”
She crossed her arms.
“You think I’m letting you walk into that guesthouse alone after everything you just learned?”
“I’m not asking.”
“You never do.”
That stopped me.
The elevator lobby was empty except for us.
Rachel looked exhausted.
“This marriage has been broken for months, Michael.”
I frowned.
“Not now.”
“That’s what you always say.”
“My mother is in the hospital because you locked her in the rain.”
“And somehow we’re still only talking about your mother.”
I stared at her.
She immediately shook her head.
“That came out wrong.”
“Did it?”
“My point is that your family has consumed everything.”
“She became disabled.”
“And I became her full-time caregiver without ever agreeing to it.”
“You said you were okay with her moving in.”
“For three months.”
“She needed more time.”
“It became a year.”
“That doesn’t excuse today.”
“I know!”
Her voice cracked.
People near the hospital entrance turned toward us.
Rachel lowered her voice.
“I know what I did was horrible. I know there is no excuse. But don’t pretend I woke up cruel one morning.”
I said nothing.
“She calls you at work if I make dinner she doesn’t like. She tells you I’m careless if I’m ten minutes late with her medicine. She accuses me of stealing whenever she misplaces jewelry. She tells me you would be happier without me.”
I remembered some arguments.
Small ones.
Mom complaining.
Rachel defending herself.
Me ending them by telling Rachel to be patient.
“She told me last month that you were going to leave me,” Rachel said.
“What?”
“She said you had already spoken to a lawyer.”
“That’s not true.”
“I know that now.”
“Why would she say that?”
“Ask her.”
I stared at Rachel.
She wiped her face.
“I’m not asking you to forgive what I did. I’m asking you to understand that your mother is not the helpless saint you think she is.”
I thought about Dad’s letter.
The hidden brother.
The covered-up accident.
The secret trust.
For the first time in my life, I couldn’t immediately defend Mom.
Rachel saw it.
“That’s why I opened the drawer.”
“You broke into my office because Mom said I was divorcing you?”
“Yes.”
“That’s insane.”
“So was I.”
The bluntness silenced me.
We drove home separately.
I got there first.
The storm had weakened.
Police tape wasn’t there.
No ambulance.
No flashing lights.
From the outside, our home looked normal.
That felt obscene.
I walked around the side of the house.
The guesthouse sat beyond the patio, near a line of pine trees.
One light was on.
I stopped ten feet from the door.
My father had another son.
That son was inside.
I had spent forty-one years believing I was an only child.
I raised my hand and knocked.
Nothing.
I knocked harder.
“Daniel!”
The light moved behind the curtain.
A lock clicked.
The door opened.
The man standing there looked enough like my father that my knees almost gave out.
Same dark eyebrows.
Same deep-set eyes.
Same narrow chin.
But he looked sick.
Thin.
Gray skin.
A knit cap over his head.
He wore a sweatshirt and sweatpants.
For several seconds we only stared at each other.
Then he said, “You must be Michael.”
My hands curled into fists.
“You must be the man who left my father to die.”
His expression collapsed.
“So Evelyn told you.”
“Don’t call her Evelyn like you know her.”
“I do know her.”
“You know her because she helped you escape.”
Daniel nodded.
“I deserve that.”
“You deserve worse.”
He opened the door wider.
“You want to come in?”
“No.”
“Probably smart.”
I stared at him.
“Why are you here?”
“To tell you the truth.”
“You had twelve years.”
“I was a coward.”
“Yes.”
“I still am.”
I stepped closer.
“Did you grab the steering wheel?”
He met my eyes.
“Yes.”
“Did you cause the crash?”
“Yes.”
“Did you run?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Dad was alive?”
Daniel’s face changed.
He looked away.
My chest tightened.
“Answer me.”
“Yes.”
Rage exploded through me.
I grabbed the front of his sweatshirt and slammed him against the doorframe.
“You knew?”
He didn’t fight back.
“You knew he was alive and you left?”
“Yes.”
I raised my fist.
Daniel closed his eyes.
Then a girl screamed.
“Stop!”
I turned.
A teenage girl stood at the top of the small staircase inside the guesthouse.
Long dark hair.
Oversized sweater.
Terrified eyes.
She rushed down.
“Get away from him!”
Daniel opened his eyes.
“Sophie, go upstairs.”
“No!”
She pushed between us.
“He has cancer!”
I released him.
Daniel stumbled backward and coughed hard.
Sophie put both hands on his chest.
“Dad?”
“I’m fine.”
She turned on me.
“You’re Michael.”
I stared at her.
She looked like Dad too.
Not as strongly as Daniel.
But enough.
“Who told you?”
“My grandmother.”
The word hit me.
Grandmother.
Mom.
Sophie continued.
“She said you were angry.”
“She didn’t tell me you were here.”
Daniel leaned against the wall.
“She wasn’t supposed to.”
I stepped inside and closed the door against the cold.
Not because I trusted him.
Because Sophie was shaking.
I looked at her.
“You’re seventeen?”
“Yes.”
“You live with him?”
Daniel answered.
“She lives with a foster family in Providence.”
I looked at him sharply.
“Foster family?”
Sophie’s face hardened.
“My mom died when I was ten.”
Daniel looked down.
“I wasn’t stable enough to keep custody.”
“Drugs?”
He nodded.
“Among other things.”
Sophie crossed her arms.
“He’s been clean five years.”
“That doesn’t change what happened.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
Her tone sounded older than seventeen.
I looked around the guesthouse.
Medication bottles covered the counter.
A duffel bag sat near the couch.
Then I saw a cardboard box.
On top was a photograph.
Dad.
Much younger.
Standing beside Daniel.
Daniel looked about eighteen.
They were smiling.
I picked it up.
“I never saw this.”
“No,” Daniel said.
“How many pictures do you have?”
“Maybe twenty.”
“How many times did you see him?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Hundreds.”
I turned.
“Hundreds?”
“Over the years.”
“You had a relationship with him.”
“Yes.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“I got Christmas dinner. You got secret Tuesdays?”
His eyes filled with shame.
“Something like that.”
“Did he love you?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Yes.”
That answer hurt more than I expected.
I put the photograph down too hard.
“So why were you fighting?”
Daniel sat on the couch.
Sophie remained beside him.
“Your mother probably told you it was about money.”
“She said you wanted everything Dad promised your mother.”
Daniel almost smiled.
“Evelyn always thought everything was about money.”
“What was it about?”
“You.”
I froze.
“Me?”
Daniel nodded.
“That night, Dad told me he was finally going to tell you.”
“I know.”
“He wanted me to come with him.”
“Then why did you fight?”
“Because I refused.”
I stared.
“He wanted to introduce us?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t want that?”
“I had spent my entire life being hidden from you.”
His voice tightened.
“Then suddenly he wanted us to sit in your apartment and act like this was some family reunion.”
“So you grabbed the wheel?”
“No. Not yet.”
I watched him.
Daniel’s hands trembled slightly.
“He told me he had changed his will.”
“To split everything.”
“Yes.”
“And that made you angry?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“He told me he was leaving your mother.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“He was going to divorce Evelyn.”
My mind rejected it.
Dad and Mom had seemed solid.
Not perfect.
But solid.
“That’s a lie.”
Daniel reached for the cardboard box.
He pulled out another envelope.
This one was addressed to an attorney.
He handed me a photocopy.
I read the first lines.
It discussed separation.
Property division.
A residence in Maine.
My throat tightened.
“Why?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Because he had found Linda again.”
I lifted my head.
“You said your mother died when you were sixteen.”
“I said Evelyn told you that.”
The room went completely still.
“What are you saying?”
“My mother didn’t die when I was sixteen.”
Daniel’s voice became cold.
“She died twelve years ago.”
I stared at him.
“When?”
“Three weeks before Dad.”
My skin prickled.
“How?”
“Overdose.”
“Accidental?”
Daniel looked toward Sophie.
“Sophie, go upstairs.”
She didn’t move.
“Dad—”
“Please.”
She hesitated, then walked upstairs.
We waited until the bedroom door closed.
Daniel looked at me.
“My mother didn’t use drugs.”
I stared.
“You think someone killed her?”
“I know someone did.”
“Who?”
Daniel’s eyes moved toward the main house.
Toward the hospital miles away.
Toward the woman who had raised me.
May you like
Then he said the words that changed everything again.
“Your mother.”
