Chapter 4 - Arthur’s Other Life
Evelyn spent the next day searching through old photographs.
Most of Arthur’s childhood pictures had disappeared from the family albums years earlier. He had always claimed they were lost during a move.
In a wooden box at the back of a downstairs closet, Evelyn found one photograph she had never seen.
Two boys stood beside an orange tree.
They appeared to be about fourteen years old. Both had the same narrow face, gray eyes, and uneven smile.
On the back, someone had written:
Arthur and Gabriel, Pasadena, 1962.
Evelyn stared at the name.
That afternoon, she called Nora Kim, the probate attorney who had worked with Arthur for more than twenty years.
Michael had insisted that Nora was unavailable after Arthur’s death. According to him, another attorney was managing the estate.
Nora answered on the second ring.
“Evelyn?”
Her surprise sounded genuine.
“I was beginning to think you didn’t want to speak with me.”
“Michael said you stopped representing the family.”
“I never stopped. Michael told me you were too ill to handle legal discussions.”
Evelyn’s blood turned cold.
“Nora, did Arthur have a brother?”
Silence followed.
“Where did you hear that?”
“I found a photograph.”
Nora exhaled.
“Yes. Gabriel is Arthur’s younger brother. They were born eleven months apart and looked almost identical as adults.”
“Why didn’t Arthur tell me?”
“Their relationship ended before you met him. Their father blamed Gabriel for a fire that damaged the family factory. Arthur later learned Gabriel had been protecting someone else, but by then Gabriel had left California.”
“Was Gabriel still alive when Arthur died?”
“He was alive three months before Arthur died. Arthur asked me to locate him.”
Evelyn gripped the phone.
“Why?”
“I can’t discuss certain documents over the phone. We need to meet.”
“Michael may be listening to my calls.”
“Then don’t come to my office. Meet me tomorrow at the Huntington Gardens café at eleven.”
Before Evelyn could answer, the library door opened.
Michael entered.
She ended the call.
“Who were you speaking to?” he asked.
“A friend.”
“You don’t have many friends named Nora.”
Evelyn remained still.
Michael picked up the photograph of Arthur and Gabriel.
His face tightened.
“Where did you find this?”
“Who is living in the study?”
“No one.”
“I hear coughing.”
“Old houses make noises.”
“Sarah carries food upstairs every night.”
Michael placed the photograph facedown.
“You are becoming confused.”
Evelyn almost laughed.
It was the same method he had used since moving into the mansion. Every objection became forgetfulness. Every discovery became grief. Every question became evidence that she could no longer manage her own affairs.
“I am not confused,” she said.
“You left the stove on last week.”
“The burner is broken.”
“You forgot your appointment.”
“You changed the time.”
Michael leaned closer.
“Be careful, Mother. A court can appoint someone to manage this house if you become incapable of doing it yourself.”
There it was.
Not concern.
A warning.
Michael walked out with the photograph.
The following morning, Evelyn left the mansion before sunrise. She took a taxi to a small bakery, waited forty minutes, and then took another taxi to the gardens.
Nora was already seated in the café.
She placed a folder on the table.
“Arthur believed Michael had been stealing from the family foundation,” she said. “He discovered forged loans and unauthorized property transfers.”
“I found some of them.”
“Then you understand why Arthur contacted Gabriel.”
“Not yet.”
May you like
Nora opened the folder.
“Gabriel was the only other person who knew where Arthur had hidden the original trust documents.”
