Chapter 14 - THE KNOCK AT MIDNIGHTThe police took Richard and Michael away before midnight.
Vanessa stayed with Evan.
Peter sat beside Margaret.
And I sat alone at the edge of the lawn.
The wedding decorations were still hanging from the trees.
White flowers.
Golden lights.
A cake no one had touched.
Rows of empty chairs.
It looked less like a wedding now and more like a stage after the actors had gone home.
Daniel sat beside me.
“You hate me.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
“You should.”
“I was angry.”
“You still are.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“I deserve it.”
I looked at my son.
“You tried to carry a war alone.”
“I thought I could protect everyone.”
“You forgot that people need the truth too.”
He looked down.
“I know.”
We were silent.
Then Margaret called my name.
I walked over.
She had the pearl bracelet in her hand.
The same bracelet she had given Vanessa.
“Put this away,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because it's not finished.”
“What isn't?”
She looked at Peter.
He was holding the final page from Arthur's confession.
“Your mother.”
I sat.
Peter spoke.
“Your mother knew about the money.”
“She did?”
“Yes.”
“She knew Dad was involved?”
“Yes.”
“Then why stay?”
“Because she believed she could change him.”
I felt sick.
“What happened?”
Peter looked at Margaret.
“Tell him.”
Margaret whispered:
“Your mother tried to expose Arthur.”
I stared.
“But?”
“Arthur stopped her.”
“How?”
“He locked her in the basement.”
My breath caught.
“That can't be true.”
“I found her there.”
“When?”
“The night Peter disappeared.”
I looked at her.
“You knew.”
“I knew part of it.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your mother begged me.”
She touched my hand.
“She didn't want you to spend your life hating your father.”
I stood.
I could not breathe.
Then something moved behind us.
A black sedan was parked near the trees.
No one had noticed it.
A man stepped out.
He was holding an envelope.
Daniel stood.
“Who are you?”
The man approached slowly.
“I'm here for Thomas.”
“Who sent you?”
He handed me the envelope.
“No one.”
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
My father.
My mother.
Richard.
Peter.
And a young woman.
The same woman from the basement photograph.
But there was something different.
She was holding a baby.
On the back was a date.
The day I was born.
I looked at Peter.
“Who is the baby?”
He didn't answer.
Margaret began crying.
I looked at her.
“Mom?”
She whispered:
“You.”
My heart stopped.
“Me?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
She looked toward Vanessa.
Then back at me.
“The baby was not you.”
I stared.
“Then who?”
A terrible silence filled the night.
Peter closed his eyes.
“The baby was your father's other child.”
I felt the world shift.
“Where is he now?”
The man who brought the envelope spoke.
“You've already met him.”
I turned.
Daniel looked confused.
Vanessa looked horrified.
Margaret stared at the man.
Then she whispered one name.
“Richard.”
The man shook his head.
“No.”
He pointed toward the road.
At the person standing behind the police vehicle.
A person I had not noticed.
A person who had been watching us.
Evan.
Vanessa's brother.
He looked directly at me.
May you like
And said:
“Dad?”
