Chương 10
The answer was no.
But she had become very good at giving people easier versions.
"I'm working."
"At midnight?"
She glanced at the clock.
She had not noticed the time.
"Apparently."
Daniel sighed.
"You know, most people have hobbies."
"I have hobbies."
"Reading legal filings is not a hobby."
"It is if you're interesting."
A quiet laugh came through the phone.
The sound surprised her.
Daniel was usually careful with his emotions.
Like he worried every visible feeling could be used against him.
"I found something," Mara said.
The words left before she decided to share them.
Daniel became quiet.
"What kind of something?"
She hesitated.
She did not know why she trusted him.
Maybe because he had already seen the worst version of her.
The version that lost control in court hallways and stared too long at old evidence.
"I don't know yet."
"That usually means it's something."
Mara looked at the screen.
A normal person might have changed the subject.
Daniel did not.
He waited.
It was different from pressure.
She noticed the difference.
"My brother contacted me."
The silence afterward was immediate.
"Your brother?"
"Yes."
"The one you told me about?"
Mara looked down.
She had mentioned Evan once.
Only once.
A year earlier.
After a difficult hearing, when Daniel had asked why she reacted so strongly to people leaving.
She had given him almost nothing.
Apparently, almost nothing was enough.
"Yes."
"What did he want?"
Mara looked at the letter.
"To tell me I don't know what happened the night my father died."
Daniel did not respond immediately.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter.
"Do you believe him?"
"No."
Another pause.
"Do you believe that answer?"
She hated him a little for that.
Not seriously.
Just enough to be annoyed.
"You sound like a therapist."
"I can't afford one."
That made her laugh.
A real one this time.
It disappeared quickly.
But it had existed.
Daniel heard it.
"Good."
"What?"
"You laughed."
"Don't make it weird."
"I wasn't."
"You were."
"I was saying it's good to hear."
Mara looked away.
She was not used to people noticing small changes in her.
Most people noticed when she won.
When she lost.
When she spoke.
They rarely noticed when she almost smiled.
"I need to go," she said.
"You're going to see him."
It was not a question.
She hated that he was right.
"I don't know."
"Yes, you do."
She closed the laptop.
"Goodnight, Daniel."
"Goodnight, Mara."
After the call ended, she sat there for another twenty minutes.
Then she booked a flight.
Not because she trusted Evan.
Not because she forgave him.
Because uncertainty had become more painful than anger.
The next morning, Mara arrived at the airport with one carry-on bag and the uncomfortable feeling that she was making a decision someone else had already planned for her.
She hated that feeling.
She hated even more that she might be right.
The flight was uneventful.
That almost bothered her.
She had expected something dramatic.
A sign.
A reason to turn around.
Instead, she spent three hours beside a man who watched cooking videos with the volume too high and a woman who apologized every time her elbow touched the armrest.
Normal life continued.
It always did.
Even when someone's entire understanding of their own past was changing.
Evan's motel was twenty minutes from the airport.
The building looked exactly like the kind of place he would choose.
Not terrible.
Not comfortable.
Temporary.
Mara sat in her rental car for five minutes before walking inside.
She almost left twice.
The first time was when she saw him through the window.
The second was when he stood.
Evan looked older.
Not dramatically.
Not like a person destroyed by tragedy.
Just older.
There were lines around his eyes.
Gray in his hair.
A tiredness that seemed permanent.
For a moment, she saw the twenty-eight-year-old man who used to steal the last piece of pizza and pretend he had not.
Then she remembered the hospital.
The memory won.
"Mara."
She stopped.
Hearing her name from him felt unnatural.
Like hearing a song she had forgotten she knew.
"You look different."
Evan nodded.
"So do you."
"That's what people say when they don't know what else to say."
"I know."
She almost smiled despite herself.
Almost.
He opened the motel door.
"I have something to show you."
She stayed outside.
"Before we go in, I need rules."
Evan waited.
"Nothing hidden."
"Okay."
"No disappearing."
His expression changed slightly.
A small movement.
Pain.
"I won't."
"No promises you can't keep."
He nodded.
"Fair."
"And if I think you're lying, I'm leaving."
"I know."
She looked at him.
"Stop saying that."
For the first time, he smiled.
Not because something was funny.
Because it was familiar.
"Sorry."
That word was worse.
Because it sounded real.
Inside the room, there were papers spread across a small table.
Not scattered.
Organized.
That surprised her.
Evan noticed.
"You expected a mess."
"I expected you."
He accepted the insult.
Mara sat down.
On top of the stack was a photocopy of a bank transfer.
She picked it up.
The name meant nothing.
A company called Northbridge Consulting.
"Who are they?"
"That is what I spent twelve years trying to figure out."
She looked at him.
"Twelve years?"
"I didn't start looking immediately."
"Why?"
He looked at the floor.
"Because I was angry."
The honesty stopped her.
"I thought Dad chose his pride over us."
Mara said nothing.
"I thought he pushed everyone away because he wanted control."
Evan touched one of the papers.
"Then I found out he was trying to protect us from something."
"That sounds convenient."
"It does."
He looked at her.
"I know."
Mara hated that she had no argument.
Because he was right.
The truth did sound convenient.
That was the problem.
People had used convenient truths against her before.
She picked up another document.
A meeting record.
A date.
A signature.
Then she saw the name.
Claire Holloway.
Her stomach tightened.
"Why is she here?"
Evan looked at the paper.
"Because she wasn't just their lawyer."
"Then what was she?"
He did not answer.
Mara looked up.
"Evan."
"She was the person who convinced Dad to sign the resignation."
The room went quiet.
Outside, someone laughed in the parking lot.
A door slammed.
A car engine started.
The world continued.
Mara stared at the document.
"Why would she do that?"
Evan looked at her.
"Because your father was about to expose what they had been doing."
"What were they doing?"
He reached into the folder and pulled out a photograph.
It was old.
A group of executives standing outside a company building.
Her father was there.
Claire was there.
And beside them was someone Mara recognized.
Her breath stopped.
Daniel Reed's former employer.
The same company at the center of the lawsuit.
The same company claiming nothing had ever been hidden.
Mara lowered the photograph.
"This isn't just about my father."
"No."
May you like
Evan's voice was barely audible.
"It never was.
