Chapter 3 - the woman in the photograph)
Elaine did not raise the hammer.
That frightened Nora more.
She simply stood beside the door, holding it loosely at her side.
“Mom.”
“Turn it off.”
Gerald stepped between Elaine and the recorder.
“Put the hammer down.”
Elaine laughed.
“You think I’m going to hit someone?”
“You came into a hidden room carrying a hammer.”
“I came to destroy the tapes.”
Nora stared at her.
At least that was honest.
“Why?”
“Because dead people should stay dead.”
Nora’s voice cracked.
“Is Evelyn my mother?”
Elaine looked at her.
Thirty-four years of childhood memories collided inside Nora’s head.
Elaine brushing Nora’s hair before school.
Elaine refusing to attend her accounting award ceremony because Marcus had a baseball game.
Elaine making Nora soup when she had pneumonia at fifteen.
Elaine telling relatives that Marcus was sensitive and Nora was strong.
Elaine standing in Nora’s first apartment and saying, “You always wanted too much independence.”
Nora had interpreted every wound through the language of ordinary motherhood.
Now she did not know what any of it meant.
Elaine finally said, “I raised you.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I was there.”
“Was Evelyn my mother?”
“Yes.”
The word landed without drama.
Nora almost wished Elaine had screamed it.
Instead it came like a fact from a grocery receipt.
Marcus looked away.
Nora turned to him.
“You knew?”
“Not until a few years ago.”
“How many?”
Marcus rubbed his mouth.
“Five.”
“Five years.”
“I found some papers.”
“And you never told me.”
“What was I supposed to say?”
“The truth.”
Elaine interrupted.
“The truth would have destroyed your father.”
Nora looked at her.
“Dad knew.”
“Your father knew what he wanted to believe.”
Gerald pressed play again.
Elaine stepped forward.
“Gerald.”
He did not stop it.
Samuel’s voice returned.
“Evelyn was twenty-six when Nora was born. She worked as an accountant for Farwell Equipment. She discovered irregular payments inside the company accounts. Payments connected to Elaine’s brother, Raymond.”
Nora looked at Elaine.
Her uncle Raymond had died when Nora was twelve.
She remembered him as a loud man with heavy cologne who always brought Marcus expensive gifts.
Samuel continued.
“Evelyn came to me because she believed someone was stealing from the company. She was right.”
The tape crackled.
“She was also afraid.”
Nora sat slowly in the desk chair.
“By the time I understood why, Nora had already been born.”
Elaine suddenly threw the hammer.
Not at anyone.
At the recorder.
Gerald reacted fast.
He pulled the machine away.
The hammer smashed into the desk.
Marcus shouted, “Jesus Christ!”
Elaine lunged for the tape.
Nora grabbed her wrist.
For one second they stood face-to-face.
Mother and daughter.
Or something that had worn those names.
“Let go of me,” Elaine said.
“No.”
“You do not understand what you’re opening.”
“I understand you’re terrified.”
“You should be terrified too.”
“Why?”
Elaine’s eyes filled with tears.
It was the first genuine emotion Nora had seen from her all day.
“Because Evelyn Mercer did not die in an accident.”
The room went silent.
Gerald lowered the recorder.
Marcus whispered, “Mom.”
Elaine looked at him.
“Tell her.”
Marcus shook his head.
“You said you didn’t know.”
“I didn’t know until after Dad got sick.”
“Tell her.”
Marcus backed toward the stairs.
Nora moved in front of him.
“Tell me what?”
Marcus looked at Elaine.
Then Gerald.
Then Nora.
“Dad thought someone killed her.”
Nora felt cold.
“Who?”
Marcus answered with almost no voice.
“He thought it was someone in this family.”
A car door slammed outside.
Gerald looked toward the ceiling.
Another followed.
Then another.
Nora heard tires crunching on gravel.
Marcus checked his phone.
His expression changed.
“Who did you call?” Nora asked.
“No one.”
“Marcus.”
He shoved the phone into his pocket.
The front door opened upstairs.
Heavy footsteps entered the house.
Then a man’s voice called from the kitchen.
“Marcus?”
Marcus closed his eyes.
Elaine whispered, “You idiot.”
Nora looked between them.
“Who is that?”
Marcus did not answer.
The stranger called again.
This time more aggressively.
“Marcus Farwell. We know you’re here.”
Gerald stepped toward the stairs.
Marcus caught his sleeve.
“Don’t.”
Gerald looked at him.
“Why?”
May you like
Marcus swallowed.
“Because the people I owe money to just found the house.”
