Chapter 10 - What My Father Knew
After hearing my father's voicemail, I played it again without the speaker.
I held the phone to my ear the way I had on the night he left it.
His voice felt closer that way.
I remembered seeing the missed call during dinner.
I had silenced the phone because a client was describing a deal.
Later, I listened to the voicemail in the car.
I intended to call him the next morning.
He was dead before I woke.
For eleven years, I told myself the message was ordinary because the alternative hurt too much.
Now every word had weight.
There is a trust document you need to see.
Do not mention it to Thomas.
Ask Samuel's granddaughter about the chapel ledger.
Mara sat beside me in silence.
"Did he ever mention my family while he was alive?" she asked.
"Not that I remember."
"Could we have met as children?"
"I do not think so."
"Your father knew my grandfather."
"Apparently."
"And knew me."
"Apparently."
She looked uncomfortable.
"Does that make you wonder whether we met by accident?"
The question had already occurred to me.
Mara and I met at a museum fundraiser eight years ago.
She worked for a nonprofit technology program.
I sponsored the event through Waverly Group.
No family introduction.
No arranged meeting.
At least none we knew about.
"I refuse to let dead men turn our first date into another conspiracy," I said.
May you like
Mara smiled faintly.
"Good."
