Chapter 6 - The Letters in the SafeMy father called an emergency board meeting the next morning.
He expected me to arrive ashamed.
I walked in with Andrew.
Dad’s expression told me that was the last thing he expected.
Eight board members sat around the polished table.
Dad remained standing.
“Daniel,” he said. “Take a seat.”
“I’ll stand.”
His jaw tightened.
“Fine.”
He passed folders around.
“Effective immediately, I’m recommending Daniel Hayes be placed on administrative leave.”
Murmurs filled the room.
Board member Helen Walsh frowned.
“On what grounds?”
Dad looked at me.
“Instability.”
I almost laughed.
He was using the same weapon again.
Different generation.
Same accusation.
Dad continued.
“My son has recently become involved with a woman claiming to be his deceased mother.”
Helen stared at him.
“Claiming?”
I spoke.
“She is my mother.”
Dad ignored me.
“He has become emotionally compromised.”
Andrew pushed back his chair.
“That’s a lie.”
Dad turned.
“Excuse me?”
Andrew placed documents on the table.
“These are payments to Dr. Samuel Greer.”
Silence.
Dad’s face changed.
Andrew continued.
“They came from one of your private companies.”
Dad looked around the room.
“This meeting is adjourned.”
“No.”
Helen’s voice stopped him.
“I’d like to hear this.”
Dad stared at her.
“I said adjourned.”
“And I said I’d like to hear it.”
For once, he couldn’t command the room.
I placed copies of Rose Bennett’s files on the table.
“Thirty-three years ago, my mother discovered company money being moved through Bennett Supply.”
Dad slammed his hand down.
“Enough.”
I looked directly at him.
“You told me she was dead.”
Nobody moved.
Helen whispered, “Victor?”
He pointed at me.
“My son is confused.”
“I have the funeral program.”
I took it from my bag.
“I also have my mother.”
Dad’s face reddened.
I continued.
“She was alive while I stood beside an empty coffin.”
One board member swore under his breath.
Dad looked at Andrew.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
Andrew’s voice shook.
“I’m finding out.”
Dad abruptly left.
The board voted to suspend him pending investigation.
For the first time in my life, I watched Victor Hayes lose control of something.
I should have felt victorious.
Instead, I felt exhausted.
Andrew and I entered Dad’s office after security disabled his executive access.
“I feel like we’re breaking into our own childhood,” Andrew muttered.
Dad’s office was spotless.
Too spotless.
Andrew searched filing cabinets while I checked the desk.
Nothing.
Then I remembered something.
As a child, Dad never let me touch the framed photograph behind his desk.
It showed Grandpa beside the first Hayes factory.
I lifted it.
Behind it was a keypad.
“Andrew.”
He came over.
“A safe.”
“Code?”
He shook his head.
We tried birthdays.
His.
Mine.
Dad’s.
Nothing.
Then Andrew said, “Grandpa.”
“What?”
“Michael Bennett’s birthday.”
He entered it.
The lock clicked.
We stared at each other.
Inside were legal papers.
Old passports.
Cash.
A handgun I refused to touch.
And a thick bundle tied with a blue ribbon.
I knew the handwriting instantly.
My name appeared on every envelope.
Daniel.
Daniel.
Daniel.
My legs weakened.
“No.”
Andrew covered his mouth.
There had to be fifty letters.
Maybe more.
Some were yellow with age.
Others were only a few years old.
My mother had never stopped writing.
I opened the oldest.
Dear Danny,
Today you turned ten.
I bought you a small chocolate cake even though you weren’t here to eat it.
I hope somebody hugged you this morning.
I hope you still remember that I love you.
I sat on the floor.
Andrew crouched beside me.
I opened another.
Dear Danny,
You graduate this week.
I saw your photograph in the newspaper.
You look so handsome.
I’m sorry I won’t be there.
Another.
Dear Daniel,
I heard you got married.
Her name is Emily.
I hope she makes you feel safe.
I pressed my fist to my mouth.
Andrew whispered, “Oh God.”
I opened one dated three years earlier.
The year Emily died.
Dear Daniel,
I read about Emily.
I cried for a woman I never got to meet.
I wish I could take some of your grief.
Please hold your little boy close.
I had to stop.
I bent forward and sobbed.
Andrew sat beside me.
“I’m sorry.”
I shook my head.
“She knew everything.”
“She watched from a distance.”
“She knew about Noah.”
My hands trembled.
“And he kept every letter.”
Andrew looked toward the open safe.
“Why?”
I stared at the bundle.
“Because destroying them would erase evidence.”
A sound came from the doorway.
We both turned.
Dad stood there.
Security was behind him.
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
I rose slowly.
“You kept them.”
Dad looked at the letters.
His expression didn’t change.
“You had no right to open that safe.”
“You kept every birthday.”
“Daniel—”
“Every graduation.”
I stepped toward him.
“My wedding.”
His jaw clenched.
“Emily’s death.”
“Stop.”
“Why?”
My voice broke.
“Why didn’t you just burn them?”
Dad stared at me.
Then he said something I will never forget.
“Because sometimes I wanted to remember what she had cost me.”
Silence filled the room.
Andrew whispered, “You’re sick.”
Dad looked at him.
“No, son. I survived.”
“You destroyed her.”
“She tried to destroy me first.”
I pulled out my phone.
Dad noticed.
His face changed.
Too late.
I had started recording before opening the safe.
“Say that again.”
He stepped toward me.
“Give me the phone.”
Security moved.
Andrew blocked them.
“Don’t.”
Dad’s control finally cracked.
“That woman was going to take everything!”
I held the phone tightly.
“So you took her son?”
“I gave you a life she never could have.”
“You stole my life from her.”
Dad pointed at the letters.
“She could have stopped.”
“But she didn’t.”
“No.”
His voice became bitter.
“She never learned.”
Behind him, Helen Walsh appeared with the company attorney.
And two detectives.
Dad went completely still.
One detective stepped forward.
“Victor Hayes?”
Dad didn’t answer.
“We’d like to speak with you regarding several financial records and allegations involving Margaret Hayes.”
Dad stared at me.
I expected anger.
Instead, he smiled.
It was the smile that frightened me as a child.
Calm.
Certain.
Cruel.
“You think you won?”
The detective asked him to turn around.
Dad kept looking at me.
“You have no idea what else your mother hid from you.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
He laughed softly as the detectives escorted him away.
Then I noticed an envelope at the bottom of the safe.
It was different from Mom’s letters.
There was no stamp.
No address.
Just my name.
Daniel.
I opened it.
Inside was a laboratory report.
I read the first line.
Then the second.
Andrew leaned over my shoulder.
His face drained of color.
May you like
Because the report wasn’t about my mother.
It was about Andrew.
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