Chương 6
The gesture was automatic.
Daniel almost refused.
Then he realized he was thirsty.
He took the glass.
That small act felt strangely difficult.
Accepting something from her felt like admitting he still needed her.
And he did.
That was the part he hated.
“Did you know?” he asked.
Claire sat down.
“About Thomas?”
“About what he said.”
“No.”
He studied her face.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
Then she corrected herself.
“I mean, I knew there were questions.”
“Questions are not the same as that.”
“No.”
“Did my parents know?”
Claire looked toward the box.
“I don’t know.”
Daniel looked at the letter.
His father’s words sat there like a confession without a crime.
He had spent years remembering his father as a man who always had answers.
A man who could repair a broken sink, negotiate a better mortgage rate, and explain why every problem had a solution if people stayed calm long enough.
Now Daniel wondered how many problems his father had simply carried until he died.
His phone buzzed again.
This time it was a text message.
Unknown number.
Daniel opened it.
It was from Thomas.
I should have called you sooner.
Daniel stared at the words.
A second message appeared.
I was afraid your father would hate me for what happened.
Daniel did not respond.
A third message followed.
But I think he would hate me more if I stayed silent forever.
Claire saw the messages.
“What does he say?”
Daniel handed her the phone.
She read them.
Her expression changed.
Not shock.
Recognition.
“What?”
She looked up slowly.
“I’ve seen that name before.”
Daniel felt the room tighten again.
“Where?”
Claire looked toward the attic.
“In one of the documents.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She did not answer.
And this time Daniel did not need her to.
Because he already knew.
She had been afraid.
But fear was no longer an explanation he could accept.
“Get dressed,” Claire said suddenly.
Daniel looked at her.
“What?”
“I’m taking you to see him.”
The decision surprised him.
“You just told me not to.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
Claire stood and walked toward the closet.
“Because if there is someone who knows something about your life that I don’t, I want to hear it too.”
Daniel watched her pull out a jacket.
For the first time that morning, they were moving in the same direction.
Not because trust had returned.
It had not.
The damage between them was still there.
But something else had appeared.
A shared fear.
A shared enemy.
Or maybe just a shared question.
Daniel looked at the letter one more time before placing it back inside the envelope.
His father’s handwriting disappeared beneath the flap.
The truth had waited sixteen years.
He could wait a few more hours.
But he knew one thing now.
Whatever Thomas Bell was about to tell him, it would not only change what he knew about his past.
It would change what he thought he knew about everyone who had helped build his life.
The drive to Thomas Bell’s address took forty minutes, but Daniel felt as if the road had stretched into something much longer.
Every familiar street looked slightly different from the passenger seat.
The coffee shop where he used to stop after physical therapy.
The grocery store where Claire bought the soup he hated but ate because she was worried.
The intersection where he had once waited with his father during a thunderstorm when his car broke down.
Nothing had changed.
That was what made it unsettling.
The world had continued normally while his understanding of it quietly collapsed.
Claire drove with both hands on the wheel.
She usually filled silence when she was nervous.
She would ask small questions.
She would point out something she saw.
She would complain about traffic or mention something she needed to buy.
Today she said nothing.
Daniel noticed because he knew her.
That knowledge remained.
Even now.
Maybe especially now.
“You’re angry,” Claire said finally.
Daniel looked out the window.
“Yes.”
She nodded.
“Okay.”
“That’s all?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know.”
The honesty surprised him.
He had spent the morning wanting answers, but every answer created another question.
Claire glanced at him.
“That’s the first thing you’ve said today that sounds like you.”
Daniel frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’re usually very certain.”
“I’m sick, Claire.”
“I know.”
“No, I mean it.”
He touched the edge of the bandage on his forehead.
“My whole life, I knew where I stood.”
Claire’s hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel.
“And now?”
“Now I don’t know if the person I was is even real.”
She did not respond immediately.
The traffic light ahead turned red.
A man on a bicycle crossed in front of them carrying a large cardboard box.
A woman walking a dog stopped near the corner and checked her phone.
Normal things.
Small things.
Daniel found himself envying people who were still allowed to worry about ordinary problems.
“My life is real,” Claire said.
He looked at her.
She kept her eyes on the road.
“The last twenty years are real.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
The question caught him.
Claire took a breath.
“I know something happened before I met you.”
She turned onto the next street.
“But everything that happened after that was ours.”
Daniel looked away.
He wanted to believe her.
That was the problem.
Wanting to believe someone had become dangerous.
Thomas Bell lived in a small brick house at the end of a quiet neighborhood.
Nothing about it suggested secrets.
The lawn needed cutting.
A newspaper sat folded near the front steps.
A plastic chair on the porch had a cracked armrest.
Daniel expected something dramatic.
Instead, he saw a home that looked like hundreds of other homes.
Claire parked.
Neither of them moved.
“You okay?” she asked.
Daniel almost answered automatically.
Yes.
He almost always said yes.
May you like
But he stopped.
“No.”
