Chapter 6: What Patricia Brought
Patricia arrived at nine o'clock sharp.
She had always been a precise woman — precise in her timing, in her dress, in the way she arranged her words before she spoke them.
She sat down at our kitchen table, set her bag beside her chair, and folded her hands.
"I owe you an explanation," she said.
"Both of you."
Thomas sat across from her.
I stayed standing near the counter, Leo against my shoulder.
"Then give us one," Thomas said.
Patricia looked at him without flinching.
She had always been difficult to read.
"Your mother, when she was nineteen," she began, addressing me, "was involved with a man who was not a good person.
When she became pregnant, he made it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with the child.
And he made it clear in ways that frightened her." She paused.
"I helped her arrange the adoption.
I handled most of it.
She was in no state to manage it herself."
"His name," I said.
"The father."
Patricia's eyes stayed steady on mine.
"His name was Gerald Marsh," she said.
Thomas shifted in his chair.
"Gerald Marsh," he repeated.
"As in the Gerald Marsh who sat on the city planning board for fifteen years?"
"The same," Patricia said.
"He d*ed last year," Thomas said slowly.
"His estate went to his two children from his marriage."
"Yes."
"Two children," I said.
"And a third no one knew about."
"Daniel," Patricia said.
"Yes."
The kitchen was very still.
"If Daniel had been formally recognized," Thomas said, "he would have had a claim on that estate."
"He d*ed before Gerald did," Patricia said.
"So the question is moot in that direction."
"But Daniel had no children," I said carefully.
"And I am Carol's daughter.
Which makes me and Daniel half-siblings." I looked at Thomas.
"Which means I might have a legal relationship to Gerald Marsh's estate as well, through Carol."
Patricia said nothing.
"Is that why you stayed quiet?" I said.
"Because if the connection surfaced, it opened a legal question?
One that might affect people you know?
People you've protected for forty years?"
Patricia reached into her bag.
She set a large envelope on the table.
"Gerald contacted me eighteen months ago," she said.
"Before he d*ed.
He had found out about Daniel.
He had hired his own investigator, the way people like him always do, and he had pieced it together." She tapped the envelope.
"He wanted to settle the matter privately.
He offered your mother a sum of money in exchange for a signed agreement.
A legal release stating that neither she nor any of her descendants would pursue any claim against his estate."
Thomas's hand went flat on the table.
"He wanted her to sign away my rights," I said.
"Before I even knew I had any."
"Yes."
"Did she sign it?"
Patricia looked at me for a long moment.
"No," she said.
"She refused.
She told him she wanted nothing from him and never had.
But she also didn't tell you, because she didn't want you involved in any of it."
I looked at the envelope.
"What's in there?" Thomas asked.
"Gerald's letter to your mother.
His solicitor's draft agreement.
And a copy of Daniel's adoption record — the original, with Gerald's name listed as father." Patricia's hands came together in her lap.
"I kept them.
I didn't know why at the time.
I think I always suspected it would matter eventually."
Thomas reached for the envelope.
"May I?"
Patricia nodded.
He opened it carefully.
I came and stood beside him as he laid the pages out on the table.
Gerald Marsh's name, printed in a column beside the word Father, in a document dated forty-three years ago.
"This is evidence," Thomas said quietly.
"Real, formal evidence of paternity."
"Yes," Patricia said.
"And Gerald's estate has not been fully settled yet.
His daughter has been contesting the will in court for the past eight months."
I looked at her.
"You've been following the case," I said.
"I have."
"Why are you bringing this to us now?" Thomas asked.
"After all this time.
After staying quiet.
Why now?"
Patricia straightened in her chair.
"Because when I heard that Thomas had accused Julian," she said, looking at me, "I understood for the first time what my silence had cost you.
And because I am seventy-one years old and I am tired of carrying things that were never mine to carry."
The room was quiet.
Leo made a small sound against my shoulder.
I shifted him gently.
"You need to speak to a solicitor," Patricia said.
"A good one.
This week."
"We will," Thomas said.
Patricia stood.
She smoothed her jacket.
"I am sorry," she said.
"To both of you.
What you went through in that hospital room — the suspicion, the fear — none of it needed to happen.
And it happened because too many people decided that protecting a secret was more important than protecting a person." She looked at me directly.
"I will not make that mistake again."
She picked up her bag.
"I'll see myself out," she said.
The front door opened.
Closed.
Thomas and I stood over the table, looking at forty-three years of buried truth spread across four sheets of paper.
"Gerald Marsh," Thomas said again, as if testing the weight of the name.
"Yes," I said.
"His daughter is contesting the will.
If she finds out about Daniel — about you—"
"She'll fight harder," I said.
"Or she'll try to make it disappear."
Thomas picked up his phone.
"I know a solicitor," he said.
He was already dialing when his phone buzzed with a new message.
He looked at the screen.
His face went very still.
"What?" I said.
He turned the phone toward me.
The message was from an unknown number.
May you like
Six words.
*Back off or the girls get hurt.*
