Chương 7
Someone wanted me to see it now.
I walked upstairs and checked on Eli.
His bedroom door was slightly open.
He was lying beneath his blanket, but his eyes were open.
“You’re supposed to be asleep,” I whispered.
“So are you.”
I almost smiled.
Almost.
He looked at the photograph in my hand.
“What is that?”
I sat on the edge of his bed.
“Something I found.”
“Is it Mom?”
“Yes.”
“Is she okay?”
The question broke something in me.
Because children did not understand that a picture could hurt more than a bad memory.
“No.”
His face changed.
Not fear.
Confusion.
“Because she’s dead?”
I nodded.
“Yeah.”
He looked at the photograph again.
“Who’s the other person?”
I hesitated.
I did not want to bring my mother into this.
Not yet.
Not when I did not understand what I was saying.
But Eli had already lost one parent.
I refused to make him feel like the truth was something adults were allowed to control forever.
“That’s my mom.”
His eyes widened slightly.
“Your mom?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought she died.”
“She did.”
He looked back at the photograph.
“Then how is she there?”
I swallowed.
“I don’t know.”
He frowned.
“You say that a lot too.”
“I know.”
“Does it bother you?”
“What?”
“Not knowing.”
I looked around his room.
The glow-in-the-dark stars Claire had put on the ceiling when he was five were still there.
Some had fallen down.
Some were hanging by one corner.
I had promised him I would fix them.
I never did.
“Yeah,” I said.
“It bothers me.”
“Then find out.”
The simplicity of the answer almost made me laugh.
Children had a way of making impossible things sound like chores.
Like fixing a broken shelf.
Like finding a missing toy.
Like calling someone and asking what happened.
I kissed his forehead.
“Go to sleep.”
“Are you going to find out?”
I looked at the photograph again.
“Yes.”
This time, I meant it.
I returned to my office and spread everything across the desk.
The notebook.
The photographs.
The envelope Daniel left.
The documents from the box.
For the first time all night, I stopped looking at each piece separately.
I started looking at the connections.
Claire had not been collecting random information.
She had been following a timeline.
My father.
Daniel.
The company records.
My mother.
The question was not why they were all connected.
The question was what event connected them.
I opened Claire’s notebook to the earliest page.
The first entry was dated four months before the accident.
“Daniel contacted me after finding the missing files.”
Missing files.
Not fake files.
Not altered files.
Missing.
I turned the page.
“David says Sarah knew the risks before I did.”
Sarah.
My mother’s name.
I stared at it.
For years, my father had barely spoken about her after she died.
When I asked questions, he always answered the same way.
“She was sick.”
“She needed peace.”
“Don’t dig up the past.”
I had accepted those answers because I was fifteen.
Because adults sounded certain.
Because grief makes children trust whatever explanation lets them keep moving.
The next page had a line underlined twice.
“Mark deserves to know, but not until I know who changed the records.”
My chest tightened.
Claire had been trying to tell me.
Not because she wanted to expose my father.
Because she was trying to protect me from something connected to him.
I closed the notebook and called Mara.
She answered after one ring.
“You saw the photograph.”
I froze.
“How do you know?”
“Because I sent Daniel to give it to you.”
The answer was different from the ones I had been getting all night.
No hesitation.
No vague explanation.
Just a fact.
“You sent him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I realized I had been making the same mistake Claire made.”
I stood up.
“What mistake?”
“Deciding what you could handle.”
The honesty made it harder to stay angry.
“You knew about my mother.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Not everything.”
I waited.
Mara sighed.
“I knew Claire found a connection between your mother and the company.”
“That’s not enough.”
“I know.”
“No, Mara.”
My voice became sharper.
“I need more than pieces.”
“You’re right.”
Another pause.
“I knew Sarah Bennett was involved with the company before David took control.”
“Involved how?”
“She helped build the first financial system.”
I looked at the old documents.
“My mother was an accountant?”
“More than that.”
“What does that mean?”
“She was a partner in the early years.”
I sat back down.
“Why didn’t my father ever tell me?”
“Because after she died, the company changed.”
“Changed because she was gone?”
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
“No.”
Mara’s voice lowered.
“Because there is something I still cannot prove.”
“What?”
“Someone removed her name from the company records.”
I looked at the notebook.
“The missing files.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
I closed my eyes.
There it was again.
But this time it did not sound like an excuse.
It sounded like a missing piece.
“Mara.”
“Yes.”
“Why would someone erase my mother?”
“I don’t know.”
I almost interrupted her.
Then she continued.
“But I know why Claire thought it mattered.”
I waited.
“Because whoever removed Sarah’s name also removed something else.”
“What?”
“Your father’s original partnership agreement.”
The room went quiet.
“My father and my mother had a partnership agreement?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
I looked at the photograph.
“Then what do we have?”
“We have proof that Claire was looking in the right place.”
“That’s not enough.”
“No.”
Her voice softened.
“But it is more than you had yesterday.”
That was true.
It did not make me feel better.
It only made the shape of the problem clearer.
I looked toward the box.
“I’m going to the old company archives.”
“Mark.”
“I need the records.”
“Wait.”
“Why?”
“Because if the files were removed once, someone may know you’re looking.”
I walked to the window.
May you like
The street outside was empty.
The same street where Claire had walked with Eli.
