Her expression tightened. Grandma Rose spoke instead. “No fewer than four.” I faced her. “When did she come?” “The first visit happened when you boys were around five.” Five. I searched through my memories. There was nothing. “And the next visit?” “The following year.” “What about the remaining visits?”
Grandma Rose hesitated. “When you were eight. Then once more, not long before Kenneth fell ill.” I turned back toward Beatrice. “You actually met her?” “Yes.” “But never mentioned it to us?” “You were still young.” “Why did she come?” Beatrice looked directly at me. “Why do you suppose she came?” I rose from my chair. Its legs scraped loudly against the floor. Grandma Rose startled. I gestured toward Beatrice.
“My entire childhood, I believed she had simply walked away from us.” “I wanted to spare you.” “Spare us what?” “More heartbreak.” “You were the one who caused it.” The words came out before I could reconsider them. For the first time, Beatrice seemed unable to respond. My hands were trembling again. I slipped them into my pockets. “Where did you put her letters?”
Her eyes flickered toward the hallway.
That told me enough.
I headed for the door.
“Mason.”
I kept walking.
“Mason, wait.”
I moved toward the staircase.
She caught my sleeve.
I stepped away.
“Please let go.”
Her expression turned stern.
“You’re standing in my home.”
“And you’re keeping letters addressed to me.”
“You haven’t any idea what those letters contain.”
“That’s precisely the problem.”
I started upstairs.
Behind me, Beatrice called out.
“Mason!”
I didn’t stop.
There were three rooms used as bedrooms upstairs.
The bedroom Simon and I had shared.
Beatrice’s bedroom.
And Kenneth’s private study.
Following his passing, that study remained locked.
At least, that was what Beatrice had always claimed.
When Simon and I were teenagers, he once tested the doorknob and discovered it wouldn’t turn.
Beatrice became extremely upset.
“Don’t ever try entering that room again,” she’d warned.
We assumed her reaction came from sadness.
Now everything made sense.
I stopped outside the study.
The door remained locked.
Beatrice reached the landing behind me.
“Mason, please don’t.”
I faced her.
“Give me the key.”
“You aren’t thinking clearly.”
“Where have you hidden it?”
“This reaction is exactly why I kept quiet.”
Grandma Rose appeared behind Beatrice.
“Hand him the key.”
Beatrice shot her mother an angry look.
“This doesn’t concern you.”
“Yes, it does.”
“Mother.”
“You’ve kept this secret for far too long.”
Something seemed to change between them.
For a moment, Beatrice appeared diminished.
And much older.
Grandma Rose extended her palm.
“Give him the key.”
Beatrice remained motionless for several seconds.
Finally, she reached inside the neckline of her blouse.
A little brass key was suspended from a delicate chain around her neck.
My stomach tightened.
She’d been wearing it.
Throughout all those years.
She removed the chain.
“Very well.”
She placed the key in my open hand.
“But after you enter that room, don’t expect me to repair whatever happens next.”
I met her gaze.
“You’ve already changed my entire life.”
I opened the study door.
The familiar scent reached me immediately.
Dust.
Aging books.
Cedarwood.
And another familiar smell.
Kenneth.
Not his actual presence, obviously.
But the room carried the same comforting scent as his coats whenever I embraced him.
I nearly lost my composure.
His wooden desk still stood beside the window.
A picture of Simon and me rested inside a silver frame.
We were six years old.
Both of us had gaps where our front teeth belonged.
Kenneth stood smiling behind us.
Beatrice wasn’t included in the photograph.
I approached the desk.
It had three drawers.
The upper drawer held pens and faded receipts.
The middle drawer contained insurance paperwork.
The lowest drawer wouldn’t open.
I glanced toward Beatrice.
She remained quiet.
Another small key was fastened beside the brass one.
I inserted it.
The drawer slid open.
Inside lay numerous envelopes secured together with an old blue ribbon.
My fingers went cold.
Each envelope carried the same two names across its front.
MASON AND SIMON.
Several had turned yellow over time.
Others appeared considerably newer.
The uppermost letter carried a date from fifteen years earlier.
I faced Beatrice.
“And you claimed these slipped your mind?”
She offered no reply.
I lifted the earliest bundle.
It contained at least thirty letters.
Possibly even more.
I unfolded the oldest one.
The handwriting was careful, though slightly irregular.
Dear Mason and Simon,
I have no way of knowing whether these words will ever reach you.
Your father keeps asking me to remain patient. He believes Kenneth is a decent man and promises that you’re both being cared for. I’m doing my best to trust him.
Yet every day we spend apart makes the entire world seem a little emptier.
There’s something I desperately need you to understand.
I didn’t go away because my love for you had disappeared.
I left because I truly believed it was the only way to protect your lives.
My fingers became motionless.
Protect our lives?
I raised my head.
“What is she talking about?”
Beatrice’s face had lost its color once more.
Grandma Rose murmured, “Keep reading.”
So I continued.
Someday, when you’re old enough to understand, I’ll explain the whole story.
Your father is working hard to make everything right.
For now, please remember that you’re in my thoughts every morning as I open my eyes and every evening before I fall asleep.
Mason, whenever something frightened you, your little hand would reach for my finger.
Simon, you couldn’t fall asleep without your soft blue blanket resting against your face.
None of those memories have faded.
I remember both of you.
And I love you dearly.
Forever.
Mom.
I slowly lowered the page.
Tears made the words impossible to see.
Simon really had owned a blue blanket.
That memory was unmistakable.
He took it everywhere until he was almost nine.
Beatrice had repeatedly told us the blanket came from the orphanage.
But it hadn’t.
It had belonged to her.
To Amelia.
Our mother.
I held the letter close to my lips.
“She remembered us.”
Nobody spoke.
“She actually remembered us.”
Grandma Rose gave a small nod.
“She did.”
I turned toward Beatrice.
“You convinced us she didn’t even remember who we were.”
Beatrice turned her attention toward the window.
I selected another envelope.
It had been written the following year.
My precious boys,
Today, I caught a glimpse of you.
Neither of you noticed me.
You were cycling through the park with Kenneth.
Mason, you lost your balance and hurt your knee.
Simon immediately turned around to help you.
You’re still taking care of one another.
Just as you’ve always done.
Kenneth noticed me standing across the street.
Later, he came over to talk.
He told me you were happy.
I desperately hoped he was telling the truth.
He asked me to be patient just a little longer.
I’m doing my best.
Heaven knows I’m trying.
Whenever I catch sight of you, every part of me wants to rush over and embrace you.
But I promised never to expose you to danger again.
Danger.
That word had appeared once more.
I began searching through the letters more quickly.
Individual sentences caught my attention.
I talked with your father yesterday.
He believes we might finally have the proof we need.
Please forgive me when you eventually discover what happened.
I wish Kenneth would allow me to visit you.
Beatrice has made it clear that I’m unwelcome near your home.
I understand her resentment toward me, but perhaps someday she’ll realize that none of this was ever my choice.
Your father has gone missing again.
I’m frightened.
If something should happen to me, Kenneth knows exactly what to do.
I froze.
I read that sentence a second time.
Your father has gone missing again.
“Who was our biological father?”
Neither woman responded.
I faced them.
“What was his identity?”
Grandma Rose slowly lowered herself into Kenneth’s old armchair.
Beatrice remained beside the doorway.
Then something became clear to me.
Both women were frightened.
It wasn’t embarrassment.
It was genuine fear.
“Tell me his name,” I insisted. “I need to know.”
Beatrice finally replied.
“Daniel Vale.”
The name was completely unfamiliar.
“What kind of man was he?”
Grandma Rose lowered her gaze.
“He and Kenneth worked together.”
I hadn’t expected that.
“Seriously?”
“Long before either of you was born.”
“What kind of work?”
Beatrice answered, “Financial services.”
Grandma Rose corrected her immediately.
“There’s more to it.”
Beatrice gave her a meaningful warning glance.
I caught it.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Grandma Rose met my eyes.
“Kenneth was employed as an accountant by a private investment firm.”
“I already knew that part.”
“But you never knew what was happening inside that firm.”
Beatrice moved closer.
“Mother.”
Grandma Rose continued anyway.
“They were concealing financial transactions.”
A chill passed through me.
“What sort of transactions?”
“Funds belonging to individuals who preferred their activities remain undiscovered.”
“People involved in illegal business?”
She paused.
“Some of them.”
I almost laughed because it sounded impossible.
Kenneth?
The same man who loved wearing ridiculous holiday sweaters?
The man who spent weekends helping us assemble miniature airplanes?
“Are you saying Kenneth committed crimes?”
“No.”
Grandma Rose shook her head firmly.
“Kenneth uncovered what was happening.”
The study suddenly felt colder.
“He began collecting copies of documents. Transfers. Identities. Overseas accounts. He planned to hand the evidence to investigators.”
“What about Daniel?”
“Daniel was helping him.”
My pulse accelerated.
“Our real father.”
“That’s right.”
“Then what happened?”
Grandma Rose glanced at Beatrice.
“Someone discovered their plans.”
I watched her closely.
“Who found out?”
“We never learned their identity.”
“Then how did Simon and I become involved?”
Grandma Rose’s voice trembled.
“Because Daniel went missing.”
I struggled to understand.
“What exactly do you mean by missing?”
“He left one day and never returned home.”
“And what did Amelia do?”
“She became frightened. She believed the people responsible might target her next.”
“And her children.”
Grandma Rose nodded.
“So Kenneth agreed to take us in?”
“Only for a short time.”
Those words stunned me.
“A short time?”
“The arrangement was meant to last only until the situation became safe.”
I turned toward Beatrice.
“Then how did we end up being adopted?”
Nobody answered.
But suddenly, I understood.
Beatrice.
I looked straight at her.
“What role did you play?”
She stood taller.
“I did nothing wrong.”
Grandma Rose shut her eyes.
“Tell him what happened.”
“I’ve already told you—”
“Tell him the truth.”
Beatrice’s expression hardened.
“Kenneth grew attached to you.”
“And?”
“You were already staying with us. Amelia was overwhelmed. Daniel had vanished.”
“She was afraid for our safety.”
“She wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“What did you do, Beatrice?”
She met my gaze.
“I persuaded Kenneth that making the adoption permanent was the safest decision.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Did it actually protect us?”
“To a certain extent.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“No.”
I swallowed with difficulty.
“Then why did you insist?”
