Chapter 6 - THE LETTER
The truth arrived in an envelope.
No warning.
No dramatic entrance.
Just a plain brown envelope delivered to the house.
It was addressed to Eleanor.
She opened it.
Inside was a letter.
Three pages.
She read the first paragraph.
Then sat down.
“Nathan,” she whispered.
I ran to her.
“What happened?”
She handed me the letter.
It was from an attorney.
Twenty years earlier, Nathan's father had secretly created a trust.
A substantial one.
Not for Nathan.
For Claire.
And for any children she might have.
My hands went cold.
“Why would your husband do that?”
Eleanor stared at the letter.
“I don't know.”
There was another page.
A handwritten note.
I recognized the signature.
Nathan's father's.
It said:
If Claire disappears, do not trust my brother.
I looked at Eleanor.
“Your brother-in-law?”
She nodded.
“Thomas.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
That evening, Nathan came home.
Eleanor told him everything.
He read the letter twice.
Then a third time.
“Where did this come from?”
“An attorney.”
“Which one?”
She gave him the name.
Nathan immediately called.
The attorney answered.
Nathan listened.
His face became increasingly pale.
Finally, he asked:
“Do you still have the original documents?”
“Yes.”
“Keep them somewhere safe.”
He hung up.
I stepped toward him.
“What are you thinking?”
“That my father knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That Claire didn't leave me.”
He looked at me.
“He knew something happened.”
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A distorted voice said:
“You should have left the past buried.”
Nathan went completely still.
“Who is this?”
The call ended.
I felt fear crawl up my spine.
Nathan looked at me.
“Pack a bag.”
“What?”
“We're leaving.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“No.”
He stared.
“I am not running.”
“This isn't about pride.”
“Neither am I.”
I stepped closer.
“You don't get to decide that I'm suddenly helpless because someone threatened you.”
His jaw tightened.
“I don't want you hurt.”
“I know.”
“And Ava.”
“I know.”
His voice cracked.
“I can't lose another person.”
That stopped me.
I reached up and touched his cheek.
“You won't.”
He closed his eyes.
For a few seconds, he simply stood there.
Then he leaned his forehead against mine.
“I don't know how to do this.”
“Neither do I.”
“Then we'll learn.”
The next morning, Eleanor's housekeeper found the library window open.
Nothing was stolen.
Except one photograph.
Claire's.
Someone wasn't interested in money.
May you like
They were interested in the past.
And whatever they were hiding, they were terrified we were getting close.
