Chapter 10: The Man Who Came Back From the Dead
Nobody moved.
Three more knocks sounded against the apartment door.
“Evelyn, I know you're in there.””
Charles Bennett's voice was calm.
Almost friendly.
The same voice I remembered from childhood birthdays, Christmas dinners, and family vacations.
The voice of the uncle who had once carried me on his shoulders through a crowded amusement park.
Now I wanted to put a wall between him and everyone I loved.
Mom grabbed my wrist.
“Don't open that door.””
Richard moved toward the entrance.
“Let me handle this.””
“No,” I said.
“I'm done letting other people handle things for me.””
I walked toward the door.
Vanessa stood up.
“Marcus, don't.””
I turned.
“Why? Afraid your father might tell me something you haven't?””
She lowered her eyes.
I opened the door.
Charles stood in the hallway wearing a charcoal suit and a navy tie. His silver hair was perfectly combed. He held a leather briefcase in one hand and a small gift bag in the other.
He looked like a man arriving for a pleasant family visit.
“Matthew,” he said.
I didn't move aside.
“Uncle Charles.””
He smiled.
“It's good to see you, son.””
“Don't call me that.””
His smile weakened.
He glanced over my shoulder.
“Evelyn. Richard. Vanessa. Quite a family gathering.””
Mom stood behind me.
“You shouldn't be here.””
Charles stepped forward.
I blocked his path.
“I said you shouldn't be here.””
He looked at me for several seconds.
Then he placed the gift bag on a nearby table.
“I brought something for you. A wedding present.””
I looked inside.
A small velvet box.
Inside was a gold watch.
My father's watch.
I recognized the scratched glass and the tiny dent near the clasp.
He had worn it almost every day.
“Where did you get this?””
Charles adjusted his cuff.
“Your grandmother gave it to me years ago.””
Mom stepped forward.
“That's a lie.””
Charles sighed.
“Evelyn, must we do this again?””
I held up the watch.
“Where was it the night my father died?””
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
“Matthew, you're asking questions based on incomplete information.””
“Then complete it.””
He glanced toward the folder on the table.
His eyes settled on the final envelope.
For the first time, the calm disappeared from his face.
“Where did you get that?””
I didn't answer.
He stepped closer.
“Give it to me.””
“No.””
Charles looked at Vanessa.
“You were supposed to handle this.””
Vanessa began crying.
“I tried.””
“You had one job.””
I stared at him.
“One job? You sent your daughter to marry me for my inheritance?””
Charles turned toward me.
“Marriage is a partnership. Your grandmother understood that.””
“She also understood you were a thief.””
His jaw tightened.
“Be careful.””
I laughed.
“Is that a threat?””
“It's advice.””
Richard stepped between us.
“Charles, leave.””
Charles looked at him with disgust.
“You've been a disappointment for thirty years, Richard. Don't start pretending to be a hero now.””
Richard's hands trembled.
“I signed the report because you threatened my family. I won't protect you anymore.””
Charles smiled coldly.
“Then perhaps we should discuss those payments you approved.””
Richard went pale.
Charles opened his briefcase.
He removed several sheets of paper and placed them on the table.
“Here are the transfers. Every one signed by Richard. If this investigation becomes public, he will be implicated in the fraud.””
I looked at Richard.
He didn't deny it.
Charles turned toward me.
“Now you understand. Nobody in this family is innocent.””
Mom stepped forward.
“You are the reason Daniel died.””
Charles slowly turned his head.
“Daniel died because he couldn't accept that the world didn't belong to him.””
Mom slapped him.
The sound cracked through the apartment.
Charles touched his cheek.
Then he smiled.
“Still emotional, Evelyn. Just like that night.””
I felt my fists tighten.
“What happened that night?””
He looked at me.
“Ask your mother.””
I turned.
Mom was shaking.
Charles picked up the gold watch.
“Daniel gave me this before he died.””
“You just said Grandma gave it to you.””
He paused.
Then his expression hardened.
“You're not ready for the truth.””
I stepped closer.
“Try me.””
Charles leaned toward me.
“Your father wasn't going to the police to expose me. He was going to confess something far worse.””
“What?””
Charles looked at Mom.
“He was going to tell everyone what happened to the first baby.””
My blood ran cold.
“The first baby?””
Mom covered her mouth.
Charles continued.
“Your mother knows exactly what I'm talking about.””
I turned toward her.
“Mom?””
She didn't answer.
Charles closed his briefcase.
“Come to my office tomorrow morning. I'll show you the documents. All of them.””
“Why would I trust you?””
“Because unlike your mother, I have nothing left to hide.””
He looked at Vanessa.
“Come on.””
She didn't move.
“Vanessa.””
She shook her head.
“I want to stay.””
Charles's expression became frighteningly calm.
“You're making a mistake.””
He walked toward the door.
Before leaving, he turned once more.
“Matthew, if you open that envelope, you may discover that the person you've spent your life protecting is the reason your father died.””
Then he walked away.
I closed the door.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Finally, I turned toward Mom.
“What first baby?””
She sat down.
Her shoulders shook.
“Before you were born, your father and I had a little girl.””
I frowned.
“Sophie?””
Mom shook her head.
“No. Before Sophie.””
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?””
Mom looked at the final envelope.
“Her name was Anna.””
I felt my throat close.
“She died?””
Mom didn't answer.
Instead, she reached for the envelope.
And this time, she didn't try to stop me.
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of a newborn baby.
On the back, my father had written:
Anna Daniel Bennett. November 3, 1993.
There was also a hospital discharge record.
And a second document.
A death certificate.
The name on it was Anna Bennett.
But the date of death was missing.
I looked at Mom.
“Where is she?””
She began crying.
“Matthew, your sister never died.””
My heart stopped.
“Then where is she?””
Mom looked directly at me.
“She's been living under another name.””
I glanced at the photograph again.
Then I noticed the final line in my father's handwriting.
If you ever meet her, don't let her tell you she doesn't know you.
I looked up.
“Who is she?””
May you like
Mom whispered:
“Vanessa.””
