Chương 6
The original recorder was transferred under written receipt for additional examination.
Noah hated watching it leave the evidence case.
For weeks it had seemed almost alive.
Now a technician wearing gloves sealed it inside a clear evidence bag.
The black velvet case stayed behind.
Empty.
Noah ran his thumb across the indentation where the recorder had rested.
“You okay?” Evelyn asked.
“It looks stupid without it.”
“That case always looked stupid.”
“You bought it.”
“I bought what was available.”
“It looks like a vampire’s jewelry box.”
“I was under stress.”
He smiled.
At school, things were worse.
The principal arranged for Noah to enter through a side door.
That made everyone notice him more.
His friend Caleb met him by the lockers.
Caleb was fourteen, six inches taller than Noah, and constitutionally incapable of lowering his voice.
“Dude.”
“No.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“I was going to ask whether rich biological parents means you can get us Knicks tickets.”
“No.”
“Then I’m not interested.”
They walked toward science.
Two girls stared.
A boy Noah barely knew said, “Yo, Vale.”
Noah kept walking.
The boy called again.
“Billionaire baby.”
Caleb turned.
Noah grabbed his backpack.
“Don’t.”
“I’m just going to ask him a chemistry question.”
“You’re failing chemistry.”
“Exactly. It’ll be terrifying.”
Noah laughed.
Then he saw three students holding phones.
His mood collapsed.
By lunch, someone had printed a screenshot from the auction and taped it above Noah’s locker.
THE LOST VALE HEIR.
He ripped it down.
The paper tore badly, leaving one corner beneath the tape.
He spent several angry seconds picking at it with his fingernail.
A teacher came by.
“Want help?”
“No.”
The teacher nodded and walked away.
Noah appreciated her forever for that.
At home, Evelyn had developed a new habit of checking the peephole before opening the door.
She did it even when she knew the person coming.
One afternoon Noah watched her check before letting in the grocery delivery.
“You know they’re not going to kidnap me again, right?”
She turned.
“That joke isn’t funny.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you make it?”
“I don’t know.”
She carried the groceries inside.
He helped.
For several minutes they argued about whether tomatoes belonged in the refrigerator.
It was the best part of his day.
Alexander began writing Noah emails.
Not many.
One every few days.
He did not send gifts after the baseball-ticket disaster.
He wrote ordinary things.
I was terrible at algebra in eighth grade. Claire says I should not admit this because it may discourage you.
Another:
I saw the interview your school posted about the robotics team last year. You seemed happier talking about the motor than the interviewer was.
Noah did not answer the first four.
He answered the fifth.
The motor was badly designed.
Alexander replied three hours later.
I suspected you might say that.
Claire sent nothing.
At first Noah thought she had decided he did not want her.
Then Evelyn found a package outside their apartment door.
No return name, only their attorney’s office as the forwarding address.
Inside was a photograph.
Claire at twenty-nine, lying in a hospital bed, exhausted, holding an infant wrapped in white.
The child’s face was barely visible.
On the back she had written:
This is the only photograph I have of you. You do not owe me anything for sending it. I thought it belonged to you.
Noah stared at it for a long time.
Then he put it in a drawer.
That night he took it out.
Then returned it.
Then took it out again.
Evelyn watched from the hallway.
“You can leave it out.”
“I know.”
“It won’t hurt me.”
“I know.”
He looked at her.
“Will it?”
She considered lying.
“No.”
He waited.
She sighed.
“Sometimes.”
He nodded.
That answer he believed.
Richard Vale appeared on television six days after the DNA result.
He did not mention Noah by name.
His attorney stood beside him outside a Midtown office and announced that Richard denied involvement in any crime, questioned the provenance of the recording, and warned against reaching conclusions from “sensational claims circulated through social media.”
Noah watched from the couch.
Evelyn turned the television off.
“I was watching that.”
“It’s bad for your blood pressure.”
“I’m thirteen.”
“You still have blood.”
Noah grabbed the remote.
She held it above her head.
“That is incredibly immature.”
“Yet effective.”
His phone rang.
Mason Reed.
Noah recognized the name from the auction guest list.
He stared at it.
“Mom.”
Evelyn lowered the remote.
“What?”
He showed her.
Her expression changed.
“Don’t answer.”
“It’s Richard’s assistant.”
“I know.”
The call stopped.
A voicemail appeared.
Leah listened to it first.
Mason wanted to speak.
Not to Noah.
Not to Alexander.
To Evelyn’s attorney.
He did not say why.
Leah arranged a meeting two days later.
Mason arrived with his own lawyer.
Noah was not allowed in the room.
He hated that.
Adults kept telling him the case was about him and then closing doors.
He sat outside Leah’s conference room drinking terrible vending-machine hot chocolate while Evelyn went in.
After twenty minutes, Alexander arrived.
He stopped when he saw Noah.
“What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Leah called.”
“She didn’t call me.”
Alexander sat across from him.
“Do you want me to go?”
“No.”
They waited.
Alexander loosened his tie.
Noah watched.
“What?”
“You do that a lot.”
“What?”
“Your tie.”
Alexander looked down.
“My father hated loose ties.”
“So you loosen yours?”
“I suppose.”
Noah thought about that.
“What was he like?”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
Alexander leaned back.
“Complicated.”
“That’s adult code for bad.”
“Sometimes.”
“Was he?”
“He could be generous in ways that made people love him and cruel in ways that made them ashamed of loving him.”
Noah looked at the closed conference-room door.
“Richard’s his brother?”
“Younger brother.”
“I thought Richard was older.”
“He behaves older.”
Noah smiled.
Alexander did too.
Then the door opened.
May you like
Nobody inside looked pleased.
Mason came out first.
