Chương 5
He did not touch it for almost a minute.
The refrigerator hummed behind him, the neighbor's television leaked through the apartment wall, and somewhere outside a car alarm started and stopped before anyone bothered to find the owner.
Daniel stood there with one hand still wrapped around the grocery bag he had carried upstairs, watching the envelope like it might move.
It was not the letter itself that frightened him.
It was the fact that someone had decided he needed to see it now.
He finally put the groceries down and picked up the envelope with two fingers.
The paper was older than anything else in his apartment.
The corners were bent.
The ink had faded slightly.
But the name was clear.
Daniel Mercer.
He turned it over.
No return address.
No stamp.
No explanation.
Only a small tear along the side where someone had opened it before him.
His first thought was not who sent it.
His first thought was who had read it.
The sound of his phone vibrating on the counter made him drop the envelope onto the table.
He looked at the screen.
Maya.
For a moment, he considered letting it ring.
That had become his habit lately.
Not answering immediately.
Not because he did not care about people.
Because every conversation seemed to contain a version of himself he did not want to meet.
He answered on the fourth ring.
"Did you get something today?" Maya asked.
There was no hello.
Daniel looked back at the envelope.
His stomach tightened.
"Why would you ask that?"
A pause followed.
Not a dramatic pause.
A real one.
The kind where someone is deciding whether honesty is worth the damage it might cause.
"Because someone sent me one too."
Daniel sat down slowly.
"What?"
"I found it at my office."
"Your office?"
"On my desk."
He stared at the envelope again.
"Did you open it?"
"No."
"Why not?"
Another pause.
"Because yours was supposed to be the only one."
The sentence landed harder than he expected.
Daniel leaned forward.
"What does that mean?"
Maya did not answer right away.
He could hear movement on her end.
Keys.
A door closing.
The sound of someone walking away from other people.
"I think we need to talk in person."
Daniel almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because twelve years ago, every serious conversation had ended with those words.
We need to talk.
Usually followed by something breaking.
"You disappeared for twelve years," he said quietly.
"I know."
"You ignored every message."
"I know."
"You told people I was lying."
"I know."
His voice became sharper.
"Then why should I believe anything you say now?"
The silence after that was different.
This one hurt.
Because neither of them could pretend anymore.
"I don't know if you should," Maya said.
Daniel closed his eyes.
That answer was worse than an argument.
People could fight with anger.
They could fight with accusations.
They could not fight with someone admitting they had no defense.
"Where are you?"
"Outside your building."
He looked toward the window.
The curtains were half open.
He had a clear view of the sidewalk below.
Maya stood near the entrance, holding a dark coat around herself despite the mild evening air.
She looked older.
Not dramatically.
Just enough to prove that time had passed for both of them.
Daniel did not wave.
Neither did she.
For several seconds they stayed separated by glass and distance.
Then Maya looked down at her phone.
"Daniel?"
"I'm coming down."
He ended the call before he could change his mind.
The walk from his apartment to the lobby took less than a minute.
It felt longer.
Maya looked at him when he stepped outside.
The expression on her face was not guilt alone.
That was what bothered him.
Guilt was simple.
Guilt meant someone knew they had done something wrong.
Maya looked like someone carrying something heavier.
Something she had not been able to put down.
"You look tired," she said.
Daniel almost smiled.
"You came here after twelve years and that's what you start with?"
"I didn't know what else to say."
"That has always been your problem."
She looked away.
"I know."
The repetition irritated him more than any excuse could have.
He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.
"Tell me why you're here."
Maya glanced toward the street.
A couple walked past them arguing quietly about dinner plans.
A man on a bicycle stopped nearby to adjust his chain.
The world continued doing ordinary things around them.
Daniel hated that.
He wanted the moment to look as serious as it felt.
"I found something," she said.
"What?"
"The reason everything happened."
He felt the old anger return.
Not a fresh anger.
A worn-out one.
The kind that had lived with him so long it almost felt like a personality trait.
"Everything happened because you lied."
Maya nodded.
"Yes."
"Because you left."
"Yes."
"Because you let everyone think I was responsible."
Her eyes lowered.
"Yes."
He waited for an explanation.
None came.
That made him more uncomfortable than a confession would have.
"You don't get to just agree with me," he said.
"I know."
"Stop saying that."
"I don't know what else to say."
For the first time, Daniel saw something familiar in her face.
Not the person who betrayed him.
The person who used to sit beside him on cheap apartment floors eating takeout because they could not afford a table.
The person who laughed so hard at terrible movies that she cried.
The person who once told him she was afraid of becoming someone who only survived by running away.
He hated remembering that.
Memories were unfair.
They kept the good parts of people alive even after the bad parts had destroyed everything.
Maya reached into her bag.
Daniel immediately stepped back.
"What is that?"
"A copy of what was inside my envelope."
May you like
She held out a folded document.
"I thought you should read it before I explain."
