Chương 10
“When?”
“Almost two years ago.”
“How?”
“Facebook.”
Of course.
Not a mysterious letter.
Not a stranger at the gate.
A message request.
Ordinary technology carrying an old disaster.
“What did he want?”
“At first, nothing.”
Godfrey snorted.
Selina shot him a look.
I caught it.
“What does that mean?”
“He said he wanted to know how you were.”
“After what, thirty-something years?”
“He had reasons.”
“What reasons?”
“He was married.”
I stared at her.
“That was the reason?”
“It was complicated then.”
“It sounds simple.”
“You were not there.”
“I was an infant.”
Her eyes hardened.
“Yes.”
The word had enough edge to stop me.
For the first time, I saw something beneath her defensiveness that was not greed.
Shame.
Old shame.
Maybe even fear.
She looked away.
“Victor was married when I met him.”
Godfrey shifted uncomfortably.
I stayed standing.
“He said he was leaving her.”
Selina’s voice had changed.
Less polished.
“I believed him because I was twenty-three and stupid and because he knew exactly what to say.”
“He didn’t leave.”
“No.”
“And you got pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“With me.”
“Yes.”
The confirmation made my skin feel too tight.
“What happened?”
“He gave me money.”
Her laugh was small and bitter.
“Not much.”
“Then?”
“Then he disappeared.”
Godfrey interrupted.
“Mom, you don’t have to—”
“Yes, she does.”
Selina looked at him.
“Stay out of it.”
That surprised both of us.
She turned back to me.
“I met Winston later.”
Her voice softened despite herself.
“He knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That you weren’t his.”
My throat tightened.
“He knew from the beginning?”
“Yes.”
I sat down because my legs suddenly felt unreliable.
Memories rearranged themselves without changing.
Winston teaching me to tie a tie.
Winston sitting through school meetings.
Winston driving twenty miles in a storm because I had called from a broken-down car.
Winston telling Godfrey and me not to measure family by blood because blood was “just biology doing paperwork.”
I had always thought he was being philosophical.
Maybe he had been telling me the truth in the only way he could.
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“He wanted to.”
Selina wiped one hand over her face.
“I didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor did nothing to earn you.”
That answer I understood too quickly.
It made me angrier.
“So you decided I didn’t deserve to know.”
“I decided you deserved a father who stayed.”
“I had one.”
“Yes.”
“And knowing where I came from wouldn’t have erased him.”
“I know that now.”
“No, you know it now because you needed eighty-five thousand dollars.”
Her expression shut down.
There it was again.
The present returning.
“Why did Victor contact you?”
She did not answer immediately.
Godfrey did.
“He needed money.”
Selina glared at him.
“What?”
Godfrey looked at me.
“He had some trouble.”
“What kind?”
“Debt.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“You knew enough to help send eighty-five thousand dollars.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
I leaned forward.
“Then make it like something.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Victor found Mom online.”
“Yes.”
“He asked about you.”
“Yes.”
“Then he figured out you were in Canada and doing well.”
I waited.
“He started asking whether you knew.”
Selina cut in.
“He threatened me.”
Godfrey looked annoyed that she had said it plainly.
“With what?”
“With telling you.”
I stared at her.
“That was the threat?”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, I really don’t.”
“He said he would contact you directly.”
“So?”
“So I panicked.”
My laugh came out flat.
“You paid eighty-five thousand dollars to stop my biological father from introducing himself?”
“It was not one payment at first.”
I looked at the statement.
“This is one payment.”
“There were smaller ones before.”
My chest tightened.
“How many?”
Selina hesitated.
Godfrey said, “Five or six.”
I looked at him.
“You brought me records with five or six extortion payments missing?”
“They’re not missing.”
“Where are they?”
“Different account.”
I sat very still.
“What different account?”
Neither answered.
I took out my phone.
Selina’s face changed instantly.
“What are you doing?”
“Making a note.”
“Damian, please.”
I typed only three words.
Ask about account.
Then I put the phone down.
Selina seemed to breathe again.
“Whose account?”
“It was one I had before.”
“Before what?”
“Before Winston died.”
“Why was money from my transfers going through it?”
“It was easier.”
“For what?”
She looked at Godfrey.
That was answer enough.
I looked at him.
“You had access.”
“Yes.”
“To Mom’s old account.”
“Yes.”
“To my email.”
He went completely still.
Selina looked between us.
“What email?”
Godfrey’s voice lowered.
“Don’t.”
I turned toward him.
“The recovery address.”
Selina frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
Godfrey stood.
“This has nothing to do with that.”
“So there is a that.”
“I helped you set up your phone years ago.”
“You added your email eighteen months ago.”
“I was fixing something.”
“From thousands of miles away?”
“You left the old phone here.”
“And used it.”
“No.”
“Phedra found messages sent from my account.”
His face drained.
Selina looked at him sharply.
“What messages?”
Godfrey pointed at me.
“He’s twisting this.”
“I haven’t told her what they said yet.”
That stopped him.
I leaned back.
“Go ahead.”
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
“Tell Mom what you sent my wife.”
“I didn’t send anything.”
“Then why do you know what I’m talking about?”
“I don’t.”
“You told me not to twist it.”
He looked toward Selina.
For once, she offered no rescue.
I watched their alliance loosen by one inch.
That was all greed needed sometimes.
Not a betrayal.
Just uncertainty about who might sacrifice whom first.
Selina’s voice became quiet.
“Godfrey.”
He snapped, “I was trying to keep things under control.”
My stomach went cold.
“What things?”
“Everything.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Phedra was panicking.”
“She had cancer.”
“I know that.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you send messages pretending to be me?”
Selina whispered, “You did what?”
Godfrey turned on her.
“Don’t act shocked.”
Her chair scraped back.
May you like
“I never told you to do that.”
“You told me Damian couldn’t find out until we had things sorted.”
