Chapter 9: The Truth About the Night His Father Died
Quentin returned to Marcus's house just after seven.
He was carrying a small cardboard box.
Simone opened the door.
“What's that?””
“Something from the attorney.””
He stepped inside.
Marcus was in the kitchen, helping Nyla with a puzzle.
“Daddy!””
Nyla ran toward him.
Quentin dropped the box onto a chair and lifted his daughter into his arms.
“There's my girl.””
She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Are you staying tonight?””
He looked at Simone.
Then back at Nyla.
“If Mommy says it's okay.””
Nyla smiled.
“Mommy said we have to be safe.””
Quentin closed his eyes briefly.
“Your mommy is right.””
He kissed her cheek.
After putting her down, he opened the cardboard box.
Inside were several old photographs, letters, and a small digital recorder.
Evelyn had explained that the items had been stored with the estate documents.
Quentin picked up a photograph.
It showed his father standing beside a younger Marva in front of a brick house.
On the back, Daniel had written:
For Quentin, so he always remembers where we started.
Simone looked over his shoulder.
“That's beautiful.””
He nodded.
Then he found a sealed envelope.
The writing on the front read:
To be opened by my son only if the family circumstances become dangerous.
Quentin's fingers went cold.
He opened it.
Inside was a letter and a key.
He read the first paragraph.
Then his expression changed.
“What is it?”” Simone asked.
He handed her the letter.
She read silently.
Daniel had written that he was concerned about financial irregularities and unauthorized withdrawals from an account he had established for Quentin.
He had also documented a disagreement with Marva about the family's property.
But the final paragraph was the most disturbing.
If something happens to me unexpectedly, do not assume that the person who was closest to me that night has told you everything.
Simone looked up.
“Quentin…”
He nodded.
“That's what she meant.””
Marcus came into the room.
“What?””
Quentin showed him the letter.
Marcus read it carefully.
“Your father was worried about something.””
Quentin picked up the digital recorder.
“Can we listen to this?””
Marcus examined it.
“Maybe. Let's see if it still works.””
He connected it to a small speaker.
A few seconds of static filled the room.
Then a man's voice emerged.
Daniel Black.
Quentin stopped breathing.
“Marva, I'm asking you to leave the papers alone.””
The recording crackled.
Marva's voice followed.
“I'm your wife. I have every right to know what you're doing.””
“Those funds are for Quentin.””
“And what about me?””
“You have the house. You have the savings we agreed on.””
“That's not enough.””
“It's what we can afford.””
There was a loud sound.
A chair scraping.
Then Daniel spoke again.
“You cannot keep telling our son that he owes you his entire life.””
Marva's voice became sharp.
“He is my son.””
“He is not your property.””
Quentin looked at Simone.
The recording continued.
“I want you to promise me something,” Daniel said.
“When Quentin grows up, you will let him build his own family.””
Marva laughed bitterly.
“And what if his wife takes him away from me?””
“Then you will have to learn to love him without controlling him.””
A long silence followed.
Then Marva spoke again.
“You always choose everyone else.””
Daniel sighed.
“I'm choosing our son.””
The recording ended with a loud click.
Quentin sat motionless.
Simone placed her hand on his shoulder.
“That's why she hates the idea of you choosing us.””
He looked at the recorder.
“There may be more.””
Marcus nodded.
“Let's see if we can recover the remaining files.””
At that moment, Quentin's phone rang.
Evelyn.
He answered immediately.
“Hello?””
“Mr. Black, I've received additional information from the estate archive.””
“What information?””
“There was a second account established by your father. It was supposed to fund your education and provide support for your future household.””
Quentin looked at Simone.
“Is there money left?””
“Yes. However, the account records show repeated withdrawals over a period of several years.””
“Who made them?””
Evelyn hesitated.
“Your mother.””
Quentin closed his eyes.
“How much?””
“Approximately $112,000.””
He felt his chest tighten.
“Did she have permission?””
“No. She was listed as an emergency contact, not a beneficiary.””
Quentin looked at the old photographs.
The money his father had worked to save for him had been disappearing while he was growing up.
His mother had told him they were poor.
She had told him his father had left them nothing.
She had told him that every sacrifice she made was for his future.
And he had believed her.
“There's something else,” Evelyn continued.
“What?””
“We located a statement from the hospital where your father died.””
Quentin straightened.
“Why?””
“Because the estate file contained a request for his medical records. Your mother had submitted it shortly after his death, but the request was withdrawn.””
“Withdrawn by whom?””
“Your mother.””
Quentin gripped the phone.
“Why would she withdraw a medical record request?””
“I don't know. But the hospital still has archived records. I've requested them.””
He swallowed.
“Was there anything unusual about his death?””
A pause.
Then Evelyn replied.
“Your father's original death certificate lists a cardiac event. However, the hospital's archived notes indicate that he was brought in after an emergency call from the family residence.””
Quentin looked at Simone.
“What does that mean?””
“It means we need the complete medical file before drawing conclusions.””
He thanked her and ended the call.
Simone sat beside him.
“Your mother said something about that night.””
Quentin nodded.
“I'm beginning to think she knows more than she's telling us.””
An hour later, a notification appeared on his phone.
An email from Evelyn.
The subject line read:
Hospital Records — Daniel Black.
Quentin opened the attachment.
The first page contained the emergency intake report.
He scanned the details.
Then he stopped at the section describing the circumstances before Daniel arrived at the hospital.
*Patient found unconscious at residence following reported fall. Emergency call placed by spouse.*
Below it was a handwritten note.
*Delay between discovery and emergency call: approximately forty-three minutes.*
Quentin read the line twice.
Forty-three minutes.
He looked at Simone.
“Why would it take forty-three minutes to call an ambulance?””
Simone didn't answer.
He continued reading.
The attending physician had documented an unusual detail.
Daniel had reportedly regained consciousness briefly during transport.
He had attempted to say something.
The words had been recorded by the paramedic.
Quentin enlarged the page.
His eyes moved to the final line.
*Patient repeatedly stated: 'The papers. Don't let her take the papers.''*
Quentin dropped the phone onto the couch.
For several seconds, he couldn't move.
Simone reached for his hand.
“Quentin…”
He shook his head.
“My father knew.””
“Knew what?””
He looked at the medical report.
“That she was going to take everything.””
His phone vibrated again.
A new message.
From Marva.
I know you've been digging into your father's death. Stop before you destroy the only family you have left.
Quentin stared at the message.
Then another arrived.
There is something you don't know about the night your father died.
A third message appeared.
And if you keep asking questions, I'll have to tell Simone why I waited forty-three minutes before calling the ambulance.
Quentin slowly raised his eyes.
Simone had read the message over his shoulder.
Her face went pale.
“Quentin,” she whispered.
“What is she talking about?””
He didn't answer.
He was already pressing his mother's number.
This time, when she picked up, he didn't call her Mom.
“Marva,” he said, his voice trembling with anger.
“Tell me what happened to my father.””
Silence.
Then Marva whispered:
“Your father wasn't supposed to die that night.””
May you like
And before Quentin could ask another question, she added:
“But he made me choose between him and you.””
