Chương 13
She took her backpack.
“I need a lawyer.”
“I can give you—”
She looked at him.
He stopped.
“Right.”
Hannah left.
For ten days, she and Marcus did not speak.
Neither planned it.
It simply became easier not to call.
Hannah hired an attorney named Rebecca Lin, recommended by her union representative’s sister. Rebecca was forty-six, wore sneakers with suits, and interrupted Hannah whenever Hannah tried to minimize something that mattered.
On their second meeting she said, “Stop protecting Marcus’s feelings while describing potential misconduct by his mother.”
“I’m not protecting him.”
“You have used the phrase ‘to be fair to Marcus’ nine times.”
Hannah stared.
Rebecca held up a legal pad.
“I counted.”
“I dislike you.”
“That’s usually when clients start listening.”
Rebecca reviewed the letters, the DNA report, Nora’s statement, the false settlement, the voided 1998 check, and the airport complaint.
She did not promise a dramatic outcome.
Hannah trusted her because of that.
“There may be civil claims,” Rebecca said. “There may be estate issues. There may be claims that are difficult because of time, proof, or who is deceased. We are not going to decide strategy based on what sounds satisfying.”
“Good.”
“We are also not going to negotiate in secret before we know what exists.”
“Good.”
“And if Cross counsel calls you directly, you send them to me.”
“Very good.”
Rebecca leaned back.
“You wanted that one most.”
“Yes.”
Meanwhile Marcus fought with people whose names Hannah only later learned.
The Cross Holdings board wanted certainty.
The foundation wanted distance.
Family counsel wanted privilege.
Outside counsel wanted time.
Public relations wanted a sentence containing the words deeply personal matter.
Marcus wanted everyone to stop saying “matter” when they meant Hannah.
His mother wanted him to come to dinner.
He refused twice.
On the third invitation, he went.
Evelyn’s dining room was set for two.
She had dismissed the staff from the room.
Marcus almost laughed at the gesture.
Privacy had become performance.
Evelyn poured wine.
He did not touch it.
“Are you recording this?” she asked.
“No.”
“Is Sloan outside?”
“No.”
“Lawyers?”
“No.”
She sat.
“Then perhaps you have remembered I am your mother.”
Marcus looked at her.
“I found Dad’s letter.”
The wine bottle stopped halfway to the table.
“What letter?”
“To me. About Hannah.”
Evelyn’s face emptied.
“Nora kept it.”
For a long moment, Evelyn said nothing.
Then she placed the bottle down.
“I wondered.”
“You wondered what?”
“Why there were only two in the fireplace.”
Marcus stared.
“So you remember.”
“Of course I remember.”
“You told Nora to burn three letters.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Evelyn folded her napkin.
“Because your father had decided honesty was noble only after making secrecy unbearable for everybody else.”
“That does not answer the question.”
“He wanted to tell you.”
“That I had a sister.”
“You were six.”
“So?”
“So I was not allowing him to turn you into his confessor.”
“He wasn’t asking me to forgive him.”
“You don’t know what he would have asked.”
Marcus pushed his chair back.
Evelyn’s voice sharpened.
“Sit down.”
He almost left.
Then he sat.
Not because she told him.
Because for the first time he wanted the whole ugly version.
“What happened with Claire when Hannah was six?”
Evelyn’s face changed.
“Who told you there was a meeting?”
“Bell said Claire was afraid of you. Hannah says Claire mentioned seeing you twice. Nora confirmed you contacted her after the birth.”
“Nora has discovered morality very late.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Evelyn looked at the untouched food.
“I went to Claire’s apartment.”
“Why?”
“Because Jonathan had started seeing her again.”
“Again?”
“He had stopped for several years.”
“Why?”
“Because I made staying married to me conditional on it.”
Marcus looked away.
There were too many versions of his father now.
“What happened at Claire’s apartment?”
“I asked her to leave New York.”
“Did you threaten her?”
“Yes.”
The admission shocked him.
Evelyn saw it.
“Would you prefer another lie?”
“No.”
“I told her Jonathan would never publicly acknowledge Hannah. I told her I would contest every dollar, every claim, every attempt to bring the child into our family.”
“Why?”
Evelyn looked at him as though he were asking why fire burned.
“Because I hated her.”
Marcus said nothing.
“I hated your father more,” she continued. “But he was my husband, and hatred inside a marriage is an embarrassingly complicated thing. Claire was easier.”
Marcus looked at his mother’s hands.
Perfect nails.
No gloves tonight.
“Did you forge the trust withdrawal?”
“I ordered it done.”
His stomach turned.
“Did you know about the fake settlement this year?”
“Yes.”
“Did you have Hannah’s signature forged?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Hensley.”
“On your instruction?”
“I told him to make the problem go away.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the answer I have.”
“Did you tell him to forge her name?”
“No.”
“Did you care how he did it?”
Evelyn’s silence was enough.
Marcus leaned back.
“The airport complaint.”
“I wanted her access reviewed.”
“You made a false security allegation.”
“I asked whether she had misused access.”
“Your chief of staff’s email says, ‘File the complaint before she contacts Marcus again.’”
Evelyn looked irritated.
“Then Peter was careless.”
Marcus laughed.
The sound surprised both of them.
“That’s what bothers you?”
“No.”
“It’s the only thing you reacted to.”
Evelyn pushed her plate away.
“What would you like from me?”
“The truth.”
“You have it.”
“No. I have admissions.”
“What is the difference?”
“The truth includes why you looked at Hannah in the hangar like you knew exactly who she was before the DNA envelope opened.”
Evelyn went still.
Marcus waited.
Finally she said, “Because I had seen her before.”
“When?”
“When she was six.”
He stared.
“You met her?”
“Yes.”
Hannah had been right.
“Did she know who you were?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Evelyn’s eyes moved toward the dark window.
“I arrived before Claire came home from work. Her sister was watching Hannah.”
“Aunt Diane.”
“I suppose.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
May you like
“Mom.”
“I sat in the hallway because Claire was late.”
