Robert Hale called three days later.
He asked me to come to his office.
Joshua came too.
Laura joined us.
The four of us sat around the same conference table where I had first learned about Simone's sealed letter.
Robert placed a folder in front of him.
“Someone contacted my office.”
“Who?” I asked.
“A man named Daniel Mercer.”
Joshua's face changed.
I noticed immediately.
“Do you know him?”
Joshua looked at Robert.
Then at me.
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
Joshua took a breath.
“Simone's brother.”
Marianne had never mentioned a brother.
I looked at Laura.
She was already writing.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I didn't know where he was.”
Robert nodded.
“That is correct. Daniel was estranged from the family.”
“Why?”
Robert looked uncomfortable.
“That is not my story to tell.”
I turned to Joshua.
“What did you know?”
“Very little.”
“You knew he existed.”
“Yes.”
“Did Simone mention him?”
“Sometimes.”
“Why was he estranged?”
Joshua hesitated.
“She said they had a disagreement.”
“What kind?”
“I don't know.”
Robert interrupted gently.
“Daniel is not asking for the sealed letter itself.”
I frowned.
“Then what does he want?”
“He says he has something that belongs to the boys.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“He didn't specify.”
“Then why contact you?”
“Because he knows I represented Simone.”
Joshua leaned forward.
“Did he say why now?”
Robert nodded.
“He said he recently learned the boys were alive and wanted to establish contact.”
I looked at Joshua.
“You knew he thought they might be dead?”
Joshua shook his head.
“No.”
That answer sounded genuine.
Robert continued.
“He also asked whether their mother left anything identifying their biological father.”
Joshua went still.
I noticed.
“Why would he ask that?”
“I don't know,” Robert said.
Joshua stared at the table.
Then he spoke.
“Because Daniel may not know I am the father.”
I looked at him.
“How is that possible?”
“Simone kept certain things private.”
I remembered Marianne.
The family had lost contact.
Perhaps the pieces were more fractured than I realized.
“What does Daniel have?”
Robert said, “A photograph.”
“Of what?”
“A man and Simone.”
Joshua's expression tightened.
“Can I see it?”
Robert shook his head.
“Not until Daniel provides it directly.”
The meeting ended without answers.
Outside, I asked Joshua the question I had been avoiding.
“Who exactly was Daniel?”
“I told you. Her brother.”
“That isn't enough.”
He looked at me.
“He was older.”
“How much older?”
“Four years.”
“And why did Simone stop speaking to him?”
“I don't know.”
“You seem to know more than you're saying.”
He shook his head.
“I don't.”
For once, I believed him.
But I also knew how dangerous it was to assume that uncertainty meant innocence.
That evening, Marianne came over.
I told her.
Her face went pale.
“Daniel contacted the attorney?”
“Yes.”
She sat down.
“I thought he was gone.”
“Gone where?”
“I don't know.”
“Did Simone ever mention him?”
Marianne nodded.
“They fought.”
“About what?”
She hesitated.
“Money.”
I frowned.
“What kind of money?”
“Family money.”
“Did Simone have money?”
“Not much.”
“Then what was the dispute?”
Marianne looked at me.
“Our parents left something behind.”
“What?”
“A small property.”
I waited.
“Simone wanted to sell it to pay for her treatment.”
“And Daniel?”
“He refused.”
“Why?”
“He said it belonged to the whole family.”
I looked at Joshua.
“That doesn't explain why he would want the boys' records.”
“No.”
Marianne shook her head.
“But Daniel could be angry.”
“About what?”
“I don't know.”
The next morning, Robert sent me a message.
Daniel had provided the photograph.
I went to the office.
Joshua was already there.
Robert placed it on the table.
It showed Simone standing beside a man.
The man was holding one of the newborn twins.
I stared.
“That isn't Joshua.”
“No,” Robert said.
Joshua looked confused.
“Who is he?”
Robert turned the photograph over.
There was writing on the back.
Simone had written:
Daniel with the boys, the day after they were born.
I looked at Joshua.
He had gone completely still.
“You said you were the only man who visited her after the birth.”
“I thought I was.”
I looked at the photograph again.
Daniel was holding Oscar.
Simone was smiling.
Felix was asleep beside her.
This wasn't a random relative.
He had been there.
He had known the boys.
And he had apparently disappeared from their lives afterward.
Robert said quietly, “Daniel claims he has more photographs.”
“Why hasn't he contacted the boys directly?”
“He wants a meeting first.”
I looked at Joshua.
“What do you think?”
“I don't know.”
That was the answer everyone seemed to have now.
We knew pieces.
Never enough.
That afternoon, Daniel finally called.
His voice was calm.
“I want to meet my nephews.”
I asked, “Why now?”
“I didn't know where they were.”
“You knew they existed.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you look for them?”
He was silent.
Then he said, “Because Simone asked me not to.”
I stared at the phone.
“Why?”
“She was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“She didn't trust Joshua.”
My heart tightened.
Daniel continued.
“She told me if anything happened to her, I should make sure the boys never disappeared.”
I looked at Joshua.
He had heard everything through the speaker.
Daniel said one more thing.
“There is something you need to know about the day Simone died.”
My hands went cold.
“What?”
“I wasn't there.”
A pause.
“But someone was.”
The call ended.
Joshua looked at me.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
For the first time since this entire story began, the mystery no longer belonged entirely to the past.
It had followed us into the present.
And somewhere in the middle of Simone's unfinished history was another truth—one that might explain why she had been so careful about the boys' future.
Click here to continue reading: PART 17: THE DAY SIMONE DIED
The adoption was supposed to fill the silence in our house, but my husband had already chosen two boys for reasons he refused to explain
Part 16 of 28
