Chương 3
He did not know why that detail affected him.
Maybe because it reminded him that Rebecca had been a person before she became a warning in his memory.
"Afterward, she stopped trusting people," Ethan continued.
The smile disappeared.
"She checked everything.
Contracts.
Receipts.
Emails.
She thought everyone was hiding something."
Daniel looked at the envelope.
"Maybe she was right."
Ethan looked back at him.
"That doesn't make it easier."
"No."
The answer came quickly.
Because it was true.
Laura opened her purse and removed a thin folder.
Daniel watched her carefully.
Inside were copies of letters.
Not the originals.
Photocopies.
Six pages.
Six attempts from Rebecca.
The first was dated three months after the collapse.
Daniel read the opening line.
I don't know if you are ignoring me or if you never received these.
His throat tightened.
He looked at Laura.
"Where did you get these?"
"Her apartment."
"Why didn't she send them?"
Laura hesitated.
"She did."
Daniel looked down.
"What?"
"She mailed them."
The room seemed to narrow.
Daniel remembered the months after the accident.
The phone calls.
The reporters.
The internal investigation.
The arguments with his supervisor.
He remembered checking his mail every evening.
But he also remembered Claire taking over the mailbox because bills were getting mixed up with official documents.
A memory surfaced.
Claire standing in the kitchen with a stack of unopened envelopes.
"You need to deal with these," she had said.
Daniel had been exhausted.
"I can't do another thing tonight."
She had looked disappointed.
Not angry.
Disappointed.
He had hated that expression more.
"Did Claire ever mention Rebecca?" he asked.
Laura and Ethan exchanged a glance.
The movement was small.
Daniel noticed.
"Why did you look at each other?"
Ethan leaned back.
"My mother said your wife knew."
Daniel felt something cold move through him.
"Knew what?"
"That you were going to testify."
Daniel stared.
"I didn't testify."
"No," Ethan said.
"You didn't."
The accusation was quiet.
Daniel looked away.
There was a difference between being called guilty and being reminded of the moment you chose not to become innocent.
The accident investigation had ended with a settlement.
The contractor went to court.
Several people gave statements.
Daniel had been scheduled to testify about inspection failures.
Then his supervisor offered him a choice.
Take early retirement with benefits.
Or become the person blamed for approving every unsafe project in the city.
Daniel had told himself retirement was not surrender.
He had told himself he was protecting Claire.
He had told himself there were other ways to help.
Years later, he still did not know which part was true.
"Where is Rebecca now?" Daniel asked.
The question hung there.
Ethan lowered his eyes.
"She died last year."
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
He had imagined many things.
Her anger.
Her confrontation.
A chance to explain.
He had not imagined an empty chair.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Ethan's face hardened.
"Don't say that."
Daniel opened his eyes.
"Why?"
"Because I don't know if you mean it."
Daniel nodded slowly.
That was fair.
Outside the window, rain began tapping against the glass.
Not heavy.
Just enough to make people hurry.
A man outside covered his head with a newspaper and ran toward a bus stop.
Laura watched him for a moment.
"My sister kept those letters because she couldn't decide whether she wanted you to read them."
Daniel looked at her.
"What changed?"
"She got sick."
The answer was simple.
Too simple.
"What kind of sick?"
Laura looked down.
"Pancreatic cancer."
Daniel swallowed.
"Did she ever try to contact me?"
Ethan answered before Laura could.
"Yes."
Daniel looked at him.
"How many times?"
"Three."
The number felt impossible.
"How did I not know?"
Nobody answered.
Daniel reached for the copies.
The paper shook slightly in his hand.
He hated that they saw it.
He hated that he was becoming someone who could not control the smallest evidence of pain.
The second letter mentioned Claire.
Not by name.
Just as your wife.
Rebecca had written that she did not blame Claire for Daniel's choices.
But she believed Claire knew more than she admitted.
Daniel stopped reading.
"Why did she think that?"
Ethan looked uncomfortable.
"Because my mother said Claire called her."
"When?"
"After the accident."
Daniel looked up.
That was new.
"Claire never told me."
Laura folded her hands together.
"Maybe she didn't know how."
Daniel stared at her.
The sentence bothered him.
Not because it was impossible.
Because it was possible.
Claire had carried his silence for years.
Maybe she had carried other things too.
The coffee shop suddenly felt too small.
Daniel stood.
"I need to go home."
Ethan looked surprised.
"That's it?"
Daniel looked at him.
"No."
He picked up the folder.
"I need to find out what happened."
For the first time, Ethan seemed unsure whether that was the answer he wanted.
"Finding out the truth doesn't change what happened."
Daniel nodded.
"I know."
"Then why?"
Daniel looked through the window at the rain-covered street.
Because for fourteen years he had built a life around a locked door.
Because every day he had walked past that door and pretended there was nothing behind it.
Because Claire was gone, Rebecca was gone, and the only people left carrying the weight were the ones who had survived them.
"I don't know yet," Daniel said.
It was the first honest answer he had given all day.
And somehow, that frightened him more than the accusation ever did.
The Letter That Changed Daniel's Investigation And Exposed A Truth Nobody Was Ready To Face
Daniel Price almost deleted the photograph because he thought it was another piece of noise.
He had spent the last six days surrounded by other people's unfinished stories.
Old emails.
Receipts.
Bank transfers.
Handwritten notes.
A storage box filled with things Claire Ellison had left behind after she disappeared from his life without giving him a clean explanation.
Every item looked important for about ten minutes.
May you like
Then he would find the missing piece.
The thing that made the whole picture less clear.
