Chapter 13 - THE LETTER THEY STOLE
Patricia had left me a final handwritten letter, separate from the one Nora delivered at the cottage.
For years I had believed it was lost during the move from her hospital room.
Now Rachel was telling me that she had taken it from the safe before Thanksgiving.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because Eleanor said it would show what Mom wanted us to do with the house."
"Did you read it?"
Rachel lowered her eyes.
"Yes."
"And?"
"It said the opposite."
I felt an old ache spread beneath my ribs.
Patricia had written something private, perhaps the final words she intended for me alone, and our daughter had used it as a bargaining chip.
I told Rachel I needed space.
She did not argue.
The following day the storage-unit contents were reviewed through lawful procedures.
The unit held copies of contracts, billing records, several family photographs, and detailed notes on clients whose assets Eleanor had sought to influence.
Investigators took custody of material relevant to their inquiries.
My letter was returned through counsel.
I sat alone in the kitchen before opening it.
My Bruce, Patricia wrote, I know you will try to fill every silence after I'm gone with gifts, dinners, and money.
Please don't.
The children need you to be their father, not the person who prevents every disappointment.
They will be angry sometimes.
Let them be angry.
Our love was never the price of a vacation or a house.
There were more lines about her illness and the memories she wanted me to keep.
At the end she wrote, If you ever find this letter when you are frightened of losing them, remember that you are allowed to live too.
I cried for the first time since Aspen.
Not because she had predicted the future, but because she had known me so completely.
That evening, Daniel told me the document examiner had found strong indications that the purported incapacity statement had not been signed by me.
The expert would provide a formal report, but we already had a clearer picture of the pattern.
Rachel called and asked if I would meet the family once the investigation allowed it.
I agreed to consider it.
Then Nora appeared with a fresh file from the hospital archives.
She had found the missing original of Patricia's recording.
Its metadata suggested the version Brittany gave me was incomplete.
There was another six minutes.
We pressed play.
A voice behind the camera spoke one name.
Bruce.
May you like
And I recognized it as Justin's.
