Chapter 3 - The Date Nobody Mentioned
November fourth was the day my father fell down his basement stairs.
He had survived the fall, barely, but never recovered enough to speak clearly again.
Five months later, he died in a rehabilitation facility.
I had been told he slipped while carrying a toolbox.
Eliam was the person who found him.
That evening, I returned home with Naomi's instructions memorized.
Do not reveal the message.
Do not accuse him without a plan.
Write down anything he says.
Eliam stood at the kitchen island chopping vegetables.
He greeted me as if the telephone call outside the red-brick building had never happened.
“Long day?” he asked.
“Interesting one.”
His knife stopped.
“I thought about Dad,” I said.
“That's understandable.”
“Did he ever tell you exactly how he fell?”
Eliam turned around too quickly.
“Why are you asking?”
“Because I realized I never asked.”
“He was alone.”
“Were you there before the ambulance arrived?”
“Yes.”
“Did he say anything?”
“Nothing that made sense.”
He laid down the knife and walked closer.
“You look upset.”
I hated that he could still sound loving.
“Maybe I am.”
That night, after he fell asleep, I checked the kitchen drawer where we kept old receipts.
I wasn't searching for a secret phone.
I wanted his story about the ambulance.
Inside a folder labeled TAXES, I found an invoice for repairs to the basement railing.
The date was November second.
Two days before Dad's fall.
The description read: RAIL REMOVED AT OWNER REQUEST.
The customer signature looked like Dad's.
But Dad had been in Chicago visiting a cousin on November second.
I remembered because I had driven him to the airport.
A floorboard creaked behind me.
Eliam stood in the doorway.
“Looking for something?”
I folded the invoice beneath another sheet.
“Just the insurance paperwork.”
His eyes dropped to the folder.
“Then you won't need the basement file.”
I had never mentioned the basement.
He held out his hand.
May you like
“Give it to me.”
