There was no easy answer in his eyes.
Evan spoke first.
“She wrote about him.”
I turned toward him.
“What do you mean?”
“After she died, I found some letters. A lot of them.”
He swallowed.
“She wrote about Daniel.”
My husband shook his head.
“I wasn’t the father.”
“I know,” Evan said.
Daniel looked at him sharply.
Evan continued.
“My stepfather raised me. Daniel isn’t my biological father.”
I stared at the photograph again.
Then I looked at Daniel.
“Then why were you with my mother?”
Evan’s eyes lowered.
“She said he helped her when she needed someone.”
Daniel finally spoke.
“That’s enough.”
“No,” I said. “It’s not.”
I had been married to this man for years.
I knew his habits. I knew his moods. I knew the way he laughed when he was genuinely happy and the way he went quiet when something was bothering him.
But I had never seen him like this.
Evan placed the phone back on the table.
“My mom left me letters thanking you.”
Daniel looked away.
“She said you helped her do something she couldn’t have managed alone.”
“What did she do?” I asked.
Neither of them answered.
Then Daniel checked his watch.
The gesture was strange enough that I noticed it immediately.
“Why are you checking the time?”
He hesitated.
“Mark’s coming over.”
I frowned.
“Mark?”
Daniel nodded.
“Why?”
He didn’t answer.
Then the doorbell rang.
My stomach tightened.
Daniel stared at the front door.
Maya looked at Evan.
Evan looked at Daniel.
And suddenly, everyone in that room seemed to understand that whoever was standing on the other side of the door was connected to Claire.
Daniel finally opened it.
Mark stood there.
He was one of Daniel’s oldest friends.
He had stopped by simply to return a wrench he’d borrowed.
It should have been an ordinary visit.
Instead, the moment Mark stepped inside and saw Evan, he stopped.
His expression changed.
Evan stared at him.
Mark stared back.
Neither man spoke.
Then Evan said quietly:
“I’m Evan.”
Mark’s face went blank.
“Evan who?”
“Claire’s son.”
The wrench nearly slipped from Mark’s hand.
Daniel stepped forward.
“Mark…”
But Mark wasn’t looking at him anymore.
He was staring at Evan.
Then his eyes moved toward the photograph still lying on the table.
“You helped her,” Mark said.
