Chapter 7 - Richard’s Confession
We found the answer in a safe-deposit box.
Daniel remembered Richard maintaining one at a bank downtown.
The bank confirmed it still existed under the family trust.
Judith tried to stop us.
“You have no right.”
Daniel stared at her.
“I’m trustee.”
“You don’t know what you’re opening.”
“That seems to be the theme of my entire life.”
Inside the box was a sealed envelope.
Richard had written Daniel’s name across the front.
There was also an old cassette tape.
We found a player in the bank’s archive office.
Richard’s voice filled the tiny room.
“If Daniel is hearing this, I waited too long.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
I reached for his hand.
For once, he let me.
Richard spoke for thirty-seven minutes.
He admitted learning the truth about Daniel when Daniel was three months old.
Thomas had confronted him at the mill.
Richard had been furious.
But according to the recording, he had not hurt Thomas.
His father had.
Not physically.
Financially.
Arthur Mercer had forged documents making it appear Thomas had embezzled company money.
He threatened to have Thomas arrested.
Thomas planned to expose everything.
Then he vanished.
Richard believed Thomas had fled.
Three years later, Richard found the compartment in Workshop Three.
Inside was evidence proving Arthur’s fraud.
Richard hid it.
Daniel stopped the tape.
“He protected his father.”
I nodded.
“He protected the company.”
He looked at me bitterly.
“Same thing in this family.”
We continued.
Then Richard said something neither of us expected.
“Years later, I learned Thomas had not fled willingly.”
Daniel leaned closer.
Richard described receiving a letter postmarked from Oregon.
Thomas said someone had forced him into a car after leaving the mill.
He escaped days later.
He did not return because Arthur Mercer had threatened Judith and baby Daniel.
Thomas believed staying away would keep them safe.
“He was alive,” Daniel whispered.
Richard’s recording continued.
Thomas had asked Richard to send money to Evelyn.
Richard did.
Quietly.
For years.
Then the letters stopped in 1997.
The final envelope contained an address.
Bend, Oregon.
Daniel stood.
“We’re going.”
I looked at him.
“To Oregon?”
“If Thomas lived there, someone remembers him.”
“What about your mother?”
His expression hardened.
“She can wait.”
That afternoon, Judith called me.
Not Daniel.
Me.
“You need to stop him.”
“No.”
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“Neither did Maisie when you chained her to a post.”
She inhaled sharply.
“I made a mistake.”
“You made a choice.”
“If Daniel finds Thomas, the trust could collapse.”
“So this is still about money.”
“No.”
Her voice dropped.
“It’s about what Thomas will tell him about me.”
I stopped walking.
“What haven’t you told us?”
Judith was silent.
Then she whispered.
“Thomas didn’t disappear because of Arthur.”
May you like
My skin went cold.
“He disappeared because of me.”
