Chapter 4: The Woman at the Door
Arthur turned toward the doorway.
Marcus followed his gaze.
A second woman stood there.
She was older, perhaps in her seventies, with silver hair pulled neatly behind her ears. She wore a dark coat despite the warmth inside the hall. One hand gripped the handle of a worn leather handbag.
She looked directly at Arthur.
Then at Evelyn.
Then at Marcus.
Arthur whispered, “No.””
Evelyn's face hardened.
“You knew she was coming.””
Arthur shook his head.
“I didn't.””
The older woman stepped inside.
Her shoes clicked against the polished floor.
Marcus looked at the Dean.
“Who is she?””
The Dean didn't answer.
The woman stopped several feet away.
Her eyes remained fixed on Arthur.
“Hello, Arthur.””
Arthur's shoulders dropped.
“Mrs. Carter.””
Marcus frowned.
“Who is Mrs. Carter?””
The woman looked at him.
“My name is Lorraine Carter.””
She gave him a small, sad smile.
“I was your mother's aunt.””
Marcus felt his stomach tighten.
“My mother's aunt?””
Lorraine nodded.
Evelyn moved toward her.
“You weren't supposed to come.””
Lorraine's eyes flashed.
“Neither were you.””
“I had a right.””
“So did I.””
Marcus looked between them.
“Someone please tell me what is happening.””
No one spoke.
He bent down and picked up the envelope.
The seal was already torn.
His hands shook as he pulled out the first sheet.
Arthur stepped forward.
“Marcus, wait.””
Marcus looked up.
“No.””
Arthur stopped.
“I have spent my entire life waiting for answers.””
He unfolded the paper.
The first line was typed in black ink.
*Marcus, if you are reading this, I failed to tell you the truth.*
His breath caught.
Arthur looked away.
Marcus continued.
*Your mother did not abandon you. She was told you were dead.*
Marcus's fingers went numb.
He looked at Evelyn.
She covered her mouth.
“No,” Marcus whispered.
He read the next line.
*And I let her believe it.*
Marcus stopped.
The paper trembled in his hands.
He looked at Arthur.
“You told her I was dead?””
Arthur's eyes closed.
“I was twenty-four years old.””
“That doesn't answer me.””
“I was scared.””
“You told my mother her baby was dead?””
Arthur's voice broke.
“Yes.””
A murmur swept through the audience.
Marcus looked around.
People were crying now.
Some had lowered their phones.
Others were staring at Arthur with disbelief.
Marcus turned back to the letter.
“Why?””
Arthur couldn't answer.
Lorraine did.
“Because your father thought he had no choice.””
Arthur looked at her sharply.
“Don't.””
Lorraine stepped forward.
“You've lied long enough.””
Marcus stared at her.
“What choice?””
Lorraine's jaw tightened.
“Your mother had complications after you were born.””
Evelyn whispered, “I remember.””
“You nearly died,” Lorraine continued.
“The doctors were afraid you wouldn't survive the night.””
Marcus looked at Arthur.
“And?””
Lorraine took a breath.
“And your father panicked.””
Arthur's face crumpled.
“He was told there was a chance you would need months of treatment.””
Marcus stared.
“I didn't know that.””
“You weren't supposed to,” Arthur said.
“Why?””
Arthur looked toward the floor.
“Because I couldn't afford it.””
Silence.
Marcus's eyes widened.
Lorraine nodded.
“Arthur was working two jobs. He had no insurance. Your mother was unconscious.””
Evelyn whispered, “What happened to my baby?””
Arthur looked at her.
“I took him.””
“You took him?””
“I signed the papers.””
Evelyn's voice rose.
“Without me?””
“You were unconscious!””
“I was his mother!””
“I know!””
Arthur's shout echoed through the hall.
He immediately lowered his voice.
“I know.””
His shoulders shook.
“I thought I could save him.””
Marcus looked at the letter again.
The next paragraph was shorter.
*Your father believed that if you stayed with him, you would have a chance. Your mother believed you had died. Neither of you knew the whole story.*
Marcus looked up.
“Who wrote this?””
The Dean answered.
“Arthur.””
Marcus turned to him.
“When?””
“Twenty-four years ago.””
Marcus stared at the pages.
“You knew all this?””
The Dean nodded.
“I was a young administrator then. Your father came to my office with the documents.””
“Why would the university have them?””
The Dean's expression changed.
“Because your father needed help.””
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
“With what?””
The Dean hesitated.
“Your tuition.””
Arthur shook his head.
“Dean, don't.””
But the Dean continued.
“He worked maintenance on campus at night. Security during the day. He cleaned classrooms between shifts.””
Marcus looked at his father's worn uniform.
Suddenly, every stain looked different.
“You worked here?””
Arthur nodded.
“For twenty-four years.””
Marcus stared.
The university had always felt like his world.
He had never realized his father had been inside it every night.
The Dean said softly, “Arthur never missed a payment.””
Marcus looked at him.
“What payments?””
The Dean glanced at Arthur.
“Your education.””
Marcus's throat tightened.
Arthur looked away.
“I told you I had a scholarship.””
“You did.””
“No.””
Marcus shook his head.
“You told me I had a scholarship.””
Arthur said nothing.
“You paid for it?””
“I helped.””
“You paid for all of it?””
Arthur's silence answered.
Evelyn began crying.
Marcus looked at her.
“You didn't know?””
She shook her head.
“I thought he had sent you away.””
Arthur looked at her.
“I couldn't tell you.””
“Why?””
Arthur's eyes met hers.
“Because by then you had built another life.””
Evelyn shook her head.
“I waited.””
Arthur whispered, “I know.””
Marcus looked at the final page.
There was a handwritten sentence at the bottom.
*If I ever give this to Marcus, it means I finally found the courage to let him choose.*
Marcus looked up.
“Choose what?””
Arthur didn't answer.
Then Lorraine stepped forward.
“Your father wasn't the only person who kept a secret.””
Marcus turned.
Lorraine opened her handbag.
She pulled out a small photograph.
She held it toward him.
Marcus stared at the picture.
It showed Arthur standing beside a hospital bed.
A newborn baby lay wrapped in a white blanket.
Beside Arthur stood a doctor.
And in the corner of the photograph was a date.
The date Marcus was born.
But that wasn't what made his blood run cold.
On the back, written in blue ink, were four words:
*The other baby survived.*
Marcus looked at Lorraine.
“What other baby?””
Lorraine's expression collapsed.
Evelyn stopped crying.
Arthur whispered, “Lorraine…”
Marcus looked from one adult to another.
“What other baby?””
Nobody answered.
Then, from somewhere behind the audience, a man's voice said:
May you like
“Mine.””
Marcus turned.
