Chapter 2 - THE ENVELOPE WAS ADDRESSED TO CHLOE
Chloe refused to take it.
That was the first thing that made me suspicious.
“This is ridiculous,” she said.
Her voice had lost its confidence.
“Eleanor barely knew me.”
I looked at Julian.
He would not meet my eyes.
“How well did she know Chloe?”
“Not well.”
“Julian.”
He exhaled.
“They spoke once.”
Chloe turned toward him.
“Once?”
He looked irritated.
“Maybe twice.”
That was a lie.
Eleanor had saved call records.
I knew because I had found them while organizing her estate.
Fourteen calls.
Some less than a minute.
Three longer than twenty.
I placed the printout beside the envelope.
Chloe stared.
“She called me?”
“You answered.”
Her face changed.
Maybe she had forgotten Eleanor could leave evidence.
Julian reached for the envelope.
I moved it.
“Her name is on it.”
“This is my mother’s house.”
“No.”
That still hurt him.
Good.
Chloe handed the baby to Julian.
Then opened the red seal.
Inside:
A letter.
And a photograph.
She looked at the photograph first.
Her face turned white.
Julian noticed.
“What?”
She folded it quickly.
Too quickly.
“Nothing.”
I said:
“Show him.”
Chloe stared at me.
“This is private.”
“Then Eleanor picked an interesting room for the reading.”
Julian took the photograph from her.
He looked.
Stopped breathing.
“What the hell is this?”
I could not see it yet.
Then he turned it around.
A man.
Chloe.
Restaurant patio.
Date printed in the corner:
Eleven months earlier.
The man had one hand on Chloe’s waist.
Not Julian.
Julian whispered:
“Who is he?”
Chloe looked down.
“No one.”
“His hand is on you.”
“He was a friend.”
“Name.”
She stayed silent.
Julian’s voice rose.
“NAME.”
The baby startled.
I stepped forward.
“Lower your voice.”
He looked at me as if he had forgotten I existed.
Then looked at his son.
Or the baby he believed was his.
He lowered his voice.
Chloe finally said:
“Marcus Hale.”
Julian’s face changed again.
He knew him.
“Your accountant?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Chloe began crying.
Marcus Hale managed Cayman Harbor Holdings.
Interesting.
Then Julian looked at the letter.
Eleanor had written:
Chloe, I am not writing this because I believe women should be punished more harshly than men for betrayal. My son betrayed Elena first. He does not get to become a victim simply because you may have betrayed him too.
Even now.
Fair.
Then:
I am writing because a child should not become an instrument in a lie.
The room went silent.
Julian looked down at the baby.
Chloe stopped breathing.
Eleanor continued.
Before you came to New York, I received information concerning the child’s paternity.
Julian’s face went blank.
“No.”
Chloe whispered:
“Eleanor was sick.”
I stared.
“Careful.”
She looked at me.
I continued:
“Memory loss doesn’t mean every fact a sick person learns is false.”
Then the letter instructed Chloe to look inside a smaller envelope.
She did.
A laboratory receipt.
Not test results.
Receipt only.
Private DNA facility.
Sample submitted:
Male reference — Marcus Hale.
Child sample — Baby J.B.
Julian stared.
“What is this?”
Chloe started shaking.
“It wasn’t what you think.”
“Did you test him?”
“No.”
“Chloe.”
“Marcus did.”
The child began fussing.
Julian handed him back almost automatically.
“Why would Marcus test my son?”
Chloe looked terrified.
Then:
“Because he thought he might be the father.”
Silence.
Julian backed away.
I felt no satisfaction.
Only exhaustion.
Then he asked:
“What did the test say?”
Chloe closed her eyes.
“I don’t know.”
Eleanor’s letter answered.
The result was never delivered because the account holder canceled it after collection.
Julian looked confused.
“Then Mom knew nothing.”
Not exactly.
Eleanor continued.
But I know Marcus paid for the test three weeks before Julian booked your tickets home.
Meaning doubt existed before they arrived.
Then the last sentence:
Julian, before you insult Elena again for failing to give you a child, ask why the woman beside you was testing whether someone else fathered hers.
Julian sank into a chair.
Then Chloe whispered something so quietly I nearly missed it.
“Marcus didn’t cancel the test.”
Julian looked up.
“What?”
She hugged the baby.
“I did.”
“Why?”
Tears ran down her face.
“Because I was afraid of the answer.”
May you like
And for the first time, Julian looked at me without superiority.
He looked like a man who had just discovered what uncertainty felt like.
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