Chapter 5 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be DeadWe escaped through the back door.
Julian drove.
I sat beside him, still holding the metal box.
“You have five minutes to explain.”
He kept his eyes on the road.
“I didn't betray Arthur.”
“You took $250,000.”
“They paid me to give them information.”
“You gave them information.”
“Fake information.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“I've been feeding them lies for six years.”
My anger faltered.
“They thought Arthur was hiding in Colorado.”
“He wasn't?”
“No.”
“Where?”
Julian looked at me.
“Canada.”
My heart raced.
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't he contact us?”
“Because every time he tried, they followed.”
“Who are they?”
Julian's voice became quiet.
“The people Arthur exposed.”
“The company?”
“Yes.”
“Are they still operating?”
“Under different names.”
I stared at him.
“What does the money in the flour tin have to do with them?”
“Arthur wanted you to find it.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew you'd never believe a letter alone.”
I looked down at the cash.
$18,940.
“Why exactly that amount?”
Julian smiled sadly.
“It's the amount Mama saved for your education.”
“What?”
“When you were eighteen, she opened an account for you.”
“But I paid for college.”
“Arthur paid your tuition.”
I stared at him.
“He never wanted credit.”
The realization broke something inside me.
All those years, I had thought Arthur didn't care.
He had quietly paid for my future.
Protected Rebecca.
Protected Mama.
Protected Julian.
And disappeared so we could live.
We drove to a small private airport.
Rebecca was waiting.
She looked relieved.
“You found the box.”
“Yes.”
She hugged me.
Then Julian walked toward her.
They stared at each other.
“You lied to me,” Rebecca said.
“I had to.”
She slapped him.
He didn't react.
“I deserved that.”
Then a private plane landed.
A man stepped out.
Older.
Gray hair.
Walking slowly.
I knew him instantly.
Arthur.
My stepfather.
My father's replacement.
The man I had spent six years believing had abandoned us.
I couldn't move.
He stopped several feet away.
“Elena.”
My throat closed.
“You're alive.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His eyes filled with tears.
“Because your mother asked me to stay alive long enough to protect you.”
I walked toward him.
Then stopped.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I was afraid you'd choose me over your safety.”
I shook my head.
“You should have trusted me.”
“I know.”
I cried.
So did he.
Then Arthur held out his hand.
I took it.
For the first time in six years, I called him by the name I had used since childhood.
May you like
“Dad.”
He broke down.
Related Stories
