Chương 4
That night, after Rachel went to bed, Marcus sat alone at the kitchen table.
The address from the unknown number remained open on his phone.
He stared at it for nearly an hour.
Then Emma cried from the other room.
Marcus stood immediately.
The movement was automatic.
The same way it had been since the hospital.
He picked her up.
She settled against him.
For a while, neither of them moved.
Then his phone buzzed again.
Another message.
This time, there was a photo attached.
Marcus opened it.
His breath stopped.
It was Claire.
Standing beside Thomas Reed.
And beside them was Maya.
Marcus stared at the photograph until the screen dimmed and his own reflection appeared over Claire's face.
For a second, he saw two versions of his life layered together.
The one he had lived.
And the one that had apparently existed without him.
He touched the screen.
The photo was not old.
Not some forgotten picture from years before they met.
Claire looked exactly as he remembered her from the last year of her life.
Her hair was shorter than usual.
She was wearing the blue jacket she had complained about buying because she thought it made her look too serious.
Thomas stood beside her.
And Maya was there.
Not in the background.
Not accidentally captured.
Standing with them.
Marcus lowered the phone.
Emma made a small sound against his shoulder.
He looked down immediately.
"I'm sorry."
The apology came out before he even knew why he said it.
To Emma.
To Claire.
To himself.
The baby stared at him with the same calm expression she had inherited from her mother.
That was the hardest part.
Sometimes Marcus saw Claire so clearly in their daughter that it felt like a gift.
Other times it felt like losing her again.
He carried Emma back to the living room and sat on the couch.
The photo remained open on his phone.
He zoomed in.
There were details he had missed at first.
A restaurant sign behind them.
A date stamp in the corner.
Eight months before Claire died.
Eight months.
A time when he thought they were building a normal life.
A time when he was working longer hours because he believed the future depended on him.
A time when Claire had started saying she was tired and he had told her everyone was tired.
The memory made his chest tighten.
Not because it proved he had failed.
Because he knew he had not been paying attention.
The next morning, Marcus drove to the address Thomas had sent.
He told Rachel he needed to handle something alone.
She argued for almost five minutes.
Then she stopped because she knew him.
She knew pushing harder would only make him disappear further.
"Call me," she said.
Marcus grabbed his keys.
She looked at him.
Not convinced.
But willing to accept the promise.
The address led him to a small office building downtown.
Nothing about it looked mysterious.
That almost bothered him more.
The building had gray walls, a coffee shop on the first floor, and people walking in carrying laptops.
The kind of place where secrets did not belong.
Marcus stood outside for a moment.
Then he walked in.
Thomas Reed was waiting in a small conference room.
He was older than Marcus expected.
Late fifties.
Gray hair.
A tired face.
The kind of person who looked like he had spent years apologizing for things he could not fix.
When Marcus entered, Thomas stood.
"Marcus."
"You know what I look like."
Thomas nodded.
"I've seen pictures."
The answer immediately made Marcus uncomfortable.
"Of me?"
"Of your family."
The word family felt strange coming from him.
Marcus sat down.
"Start talking."
Thomas did not sit right away.
He looked at the empty chair across from Marcus.
"Claire was worried this conversation would happen under the worst circumstances."
"She was right."
Thomas accepted that.
He sat.
"She came to me because she was trying to find information about her mother."
Marcus frowned.
"What?"
"Her mother."
Marcus leaned back.
"Claire's mother died when she was sixteen."
"I know."
"Then why was she investigating her?"
Thomas looked at him carefully.
"Because Claire found evidence that some things she had been told about her family were not true."
Marcus felt the room shift.
Not because he understood.
Because he did not.
"What kind of evidence?"
Thomas reached into a folder.
He did not slide it over immediately.
That small hesitation bothered Marcus.
"What?"
Thomas looked down.
"I need you to understand something."
Marcus almost laughed.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
Thomas did not react.
"Claire loved you."
The sentence made Marcus uncomfortable.
He looked away.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Use my wife to soften this."
Thomas was quiet.
Then he nodded.
"Fair enough."
He opened the folder.
Inside were copies of documents.
Old records.
Emails.
A photograph of a woman Marcus did not recognize.
"Claire believed her mother did not leave her voluntarily."
Marcus looked at the papers.
"Her mother?"
Thomas nodded.
"Claire spent years believing her mother abandoned her."
"And you think she didn't?"
"I think Claire found enough information to question that story."
Marcus picked up one of the documents.
He did not understand most of it.
Names.
Dates.
Addresses.
Legal language.
"What does any of this have to do with me?"
Thomas looked toward the window.
"Because Claire discovered someone else had been looking into the same thing."
Marcus already knew the answer before Thomas said it.
"Maya."
Thomas nodded.
The name felt heavier now.
"Who is she?"
Thomas did not answer immediately.
"Her full name is Maya Ellis."
Marcus waited.
"Claire met her six months before she died."
"Why?"
"Because Maya's mother knew Claire's mother."
Marcus stared.
The connections were becoming impossible to ignore.
"Why didn't Claire tell me?"
Thomas looked down.
"That is the question I have been asking myself."
Marcus felt anger rise.
"You're saying she trusted you with this but not me?"
May you like
Thomas did not defend himself.
That somehow made Marcus angrier.
