I stared at the yellowed envelope in Grandma Rose’s trembling hand, unable to move.
“IF YOU OPEN THAT LETTER, YOU’LL WISH YOU NEVER CAME HERE!” Beatrice screamed.
For twenty years, I had been afraid of disappointing this woman.
Afraid of making her angry.
Afraid of asking questions she didn’t want to answer.
But standing in that kitchen, with my brother still listening on the phone and the truth about our childhood finally beginning to unravel, something inside me changed.
I wasn’t a frightened little boy anymore.
I was a grown man who had just discovered that the woman who raised him might have stolen his entire life.
I reached forward and took the envelope.
Beatrice lunged toward me.
“Give me that!”
I stepped backward.
“Don’t touch me.”
Her face twisted with rage.
“You have no idea what you’re doing!”
“Then I suggest you start explaining.”
Grandma Rose sank into her chair, covering her face with both hands.
On the phone, Simon’s voice suddenly broke through the silence.
“Mason? What’s happening? Who’s screaming?”
I brought the phone closer.
“Simon, I need you here. Now.”
“I’m already in my car.”
“Drive carefully.”
“Mason, listen to me. Whatever Beatrice says, don’t give her that letter.”
I froze.
“How do you know about the letter?”
There was a pause.
Then Simon answered, “Because Evelyn told me Kenneth left something behind.”
My eyes moved toward Grandma Rose.
She was crying silently.
“Simon, how much did that woman tell you?”
“Not enough. She stopped answering my calls two weeks ago.”
A cold feeling settled in my stomach.
“What do you mean?”
“She called me one night, crying. She said someone had found out she was contacting us. She told me she was scared.”
I looked at Beatrice.
Her expression changed immediately.
“That’s ridiculous,” she snapped. “Evelyn has always been dramatic.”
I lowered the phone.
“How do you know she was being dramatic?”
Beatrice hesitated.
“What?”
“Simon never told you Evelyn contacted him. I never told you either. So how do you know what she’s been saying?”
For the first time, Beatrice looked genuinely trapped.
Grandma Rose slowly lifted her head.
“Beatrice,” she whispered. “What have you done?”
“Nothing!”
“Then why are you so frightened of that letter?”
Beatrice slammed her palm against the table.
“Because Kenneth was a confused man when he wrote it!”
I stared at her.
“Confused?”
“He was sick, Mason. Very sick. He didn’t know what he was saying.”
I remembered Kenneth’s final weeks.
I remembered him sitting in his favorite armchair, his skin pale and his breathing labored.
I remembered how he would sometimes stare at Simon and me with tears in his eyes.
At the time, I thought he was simply frightened of dying.
But now I wondered whether those tears had meant something else.
I carefully opened the envelope.
Inside were three folded sheets of paper and an old photograph.
The photograph showed Kenneth standing outside a small brick house.
Beside him was a young woman with long brown hair and a beautiful smile.
She was holding two toddlers.
Simon and me.
I recognized us immediately.
We were wearing matching blue sweaters.
The same sweaters I had discovered in the attic years earlier.
My hands began shaking.
The woman was Evelyn.
Our mother.
And Kenneth had his arm around her shoulders.
They looked like a family.
A happy family.
I turned the photograph over.
Four words were written in Kenneth’s handwriting.
“Our boys. Our greatest blessing.”
My breath caught.
Our boys?
I looked at Grandma Rose.
“What does this mean?”
She began sobbing.
Beatrice turned away.
I unfolded the first sheet of paper.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
Kenneth’s.
“My dear Mason and Simon,
“If you’re reading this, it means I never found the courage or the time to tell you the truth myself.
“There is something about your lives that you deserve to know.
“Something I should have told you the moment I discovered it.
“I want you to understand that loving you was never a mistake.
“But trusting the wrong person was the greatest mistake of my life.”
My vision blurred.
I forced myself to continue.
“Before you were born, I knew your mother, Evelyn Carter. We were young, and we loved each other deeply.
“But circumstances separated us, and I made decisions that I have regretted every day since.
“When I married Beatrice, I believed that chapter of my life was over.
“Then, three years later, two little boys came into our home.
“Beatrice told me their mother had abandoned them.
“I believed her.
“Until the day I discovered an old photograph hidden in her bedroom.
“That was when I learned something that changed everything.”
I stopped reading.
My heart was pounding so hard that I could hear it in my ears.
Grandma Rose whispered, “Keep going, Mason.”
I looked down at the next sentence.
“The two boys I had adopted were my own biological sons.”
The kitchen seemed to disappear around me.
I read the sentence again.
And again.
My own biological sons.
Kenneth hadn’t simply adopted Simon and me.
He was our real father.
The man who taught us to ride bicycles.
The man who attended every school play.
The man who called us his whole world.
He had been our father all along.
I pressed the letter against my chest.
“Oh, God.”
On the phone, Simon was shouting my name.
“Mason! What happened?”
I could barely speak.
“Simon…”
“What?”
“Kenneth was our father.”
Silence.
Then I heard my brother whisper, “What did you just say?”
“He was our biological father, Simon.”
For several seconds, there was nothing but the faint sound of traffic through his phone.
Then Simon began crying.
I had heard my brother cry only twice in my entire life.
Once when Kenneth died.
And once when we packed our belongings and left Beatrice’s house after graduation.
Now he was crying again.
“He was our dad?” Simon whispered.
“Yes.”
“He was really our dad?”
I closed my eyes.
“Yes, Simon.”
My brother made a broken sound.
“Oh, Mason. He knew?”
I looked at the letter.
“Not at first.”
I swallowed hard.
“But he found out before he died.”
Beatrice suddenly spoke.
“Kenneth didn’t know everything.”
I turned toward her.
“What?”
“He didn’t know the whole story.”
“Then tell me.”
She looked at Grandma Rose.
“Mother, say something.”
Grandma Rose shook her head.
“No, Beatrice. I’ve spent twenty years protecting you. I’m finished.”
I unfolded the second page.
Kenneth’s handwriting had become shakier.
“I confronted Beatrice after finding the photograph.
“At first, she denied everything.
“Then she admitted that Evelyn had never willingly surrendered you.
“She claimed she had arranged the adoption because Evelyn was unfit to raise children.
“But when I asked to see the original documents, Beatrice refused.
“That was when I began investigating.
“And what I discovered frightened me more than anything I had ever known.”
My mouth went dry.
I looked up.
Beatrice had backed against the kitchen counter.
Her face was colorless.
I continued.
“Evelyn had been hospitalized after a serious illness when you were three.
“She agreed to temporary guardianship because she believed it would keep you safe until she recovered.
“But someone changed the paperwork.
“Someone turned temporary guardianship into a permanent adoption.
“And someone made sure Evelyn could not contact you.”
I stopped.
The pieces were finally coming together.
Beatrice hadn’t simply lied to us.
She had deliberately separated us from our mother.
And somehow, she had arranged for our biological father to adopt us without knowing who we were.
I stared at her.
“Why?”
Beatrice shook her head.
“Mason, please.”
“WHY?”
Her lips trembled.
“Because Kenneth was going to leave me.”
The words hung in the air.
Grandma Rose closed her eyes.
I frowned.
“What?”
Beatrice began crying.
Real tears this time.
“Kenneth found out Evelyn had returned to town. He started asking questions about her. He told me he had never stopped loving her.”
I stared at her in disbelief.
“So you stole her children?”
“I thought if Kenneth had a family with me, he would stay!”
My stomach turned.
“You used us to keep him?”
“I raised you!”
“You used two little boys to save your marriage!”
Beatrice covered her ears.
“STOP!”
But I couldn’t stop.
Not anymore.
“Did you ever love us?”
She looked at me.
For one terrible moment, I thought she might say yes.
Instead, she whispered, “I tried.”
Those two words hurt more than anything she had ever said to me.
I tried.
Twenty years of birthdays without cakes.
Twenty years of being reminded that we should be grateful.
Twenty years of feeling like guests in a house that was supposed to be our home.
And all she could say was that she tried.
I looked away before she could see my tears.
Then I noticed the final page of Kenneth’s letter.
There were only a few paragraphs left.
I began reading.
“I have spoken to an attorney.
“I have arranged for an independent investigation into the adoption.
“I have also made changes to my estate.
“If anything happens to me before the truth is revealed, my sons must receive what belongs to them.
“I have placed the relevant documents with someone I trust.
“Beatrice does not know where they are.
“And there is one final thing you must understand.”
My fingers tightened around the paper.
“The night I confronted Beatrice, she threatened to make sure Evelyn disappeared from our lives forever.
“I did not believe she would go that far.
“I was wrong.”
I looked at Beatrice.
She was shaking her head.
“No. No, no, no.”
I read the final lines aloud.
“If I am gone before I can put this right, find Evelyn.
“Ask her about the accident on Willow Creek Road.
“And whatever you do, do not believe Beatrice when she tells you how I died.
“With all my love,
“Dad.”
I stood completely still.
The accident on Willow Creek Road?
Kenneth had died of a heart attack.
That was what Beatrice had told us.
I remembered the ambulance.
The hospital.
The funeral.
The closed casket.
I remembered being ten years old and begging to see him one last time.
Beatrice had refused.
“Remember him the way he was,” she’d said.
Now I understood why that memory had always felt wrong.
I looked at Grandma Rose.
“How did Kenneth really die?”
She began trembling.
“Mason…”
“Please.”
She looked toward Beatrice.
Her daughter was staring at the floor.
Finally, Grandma Rose whispered, “Kenneth was in a car accident.”
My entire body went cold.
“What?”
“He was driving home from meeting Evelyn when his car went off Willow Creek Road.”
I stared at her.
“But Beatrice told us he had a heart attack.”
Grandma Rose nodded slowly.
“That was the official cause listed after his death. But there were questions about what happened before the crash.”
“What questions?”
Grandma Rose wiped her cheeks.
“Someone had been following his car.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Who?”
She didn’t answer.
Instead, she looked at Beatrice.
And suddenly, I understood.
I turned toward my adoptive mother.
“Was it you?”
Beatrice shook her head.
“I didn’t kill Kenneth.”
“Then who was following him?”
“I don’t know!”
Grandma Rose stood up.
“Stop lying, Beatrice.”
Beatrice spun around.
“Mother!”
“You told me you were there that night!”
Silence.
The room became so quiet that I could hear the refrigerator humming.
I stared at Beatrice.
“You were there?”
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She swallowed.
“Because Kenneth was leaving me.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“He was going back to Evelyn?”
Beatrice nodded.
“He told me he was taking you boys and bringing you home to your mother.”
My eyes filled with tears.
Kenneth had been coming for us.
Our father had discovered the truth.
He had tried to reunite our family.
And he had died before he could finish.
“What happened on that road?” I whispered.
Beatrice began sobbing.
“I followed him. We argued. He pulled over, and I stopped behind him.”
“And?”
“He told me our marriage was over.”
She wiped her face.
“He said he had already spoken to a lawyer. He said he was going to tell the boys everything.”
My heart hammered.
“Then what?”
Beatrice looked at Grandma Rose.
“I begged him not to leave.”
“And when he refused?”
Her voice dropped.
“I got back into my car.”
I stared at her.
“Beatrice…”
“I only wanted to stop him.”
“Stop him how?”
She covered her mouth.
Grandma Rose began crying harder.
“Tell him.”
Beatrice shook her head.
“I didn’t mean to.”
My stomach sank.
“What did you do?”
Her answer came in a whisper.
“I drove after him.”
I waited.
“He was turning onto the bridge. I tried to pull alongside him. I wanted him to stop so we could talk.”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Our cars touched.”
I felt as though someone had punched me in the chest.
“Touched?”
“His car swerved.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“And?”
“It hit the barrier.”
Grandma Rose let out a sob.
Beatrice stared at me with desperate eyes.
“I didn’t mean for him to go over, Mason. I swear I didn’t.”
I stepped backward.
Our father hadn’t simply died.
He had been trying to bring us home.
And Beatrice had been responsible for the crash.
I looked at her, searching for the woman I had spent twenty years trying to please.
But all I could see was a stranger.
“Did you call for help?”
Beatrice looked down.
I felt my heart stop.
“Beatrice. DID YOU CALL FOR HELP?”
She began crying again.
“I was scared.”
My voice broke.
“Did you leave him there?”
She didn’t answer.
And that silence told me more than any confession could.
I backed away from the table.
I couldn’t look at her.
Couldn’t listen to another excuse.
I wanted Simon.
I wanted Kenneth.
I wanted the childhood we should have had.
Then my phone rang.
Simon.
I answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
His voice sounded strange.
“Mason, I’m outside.”
I looked toward the front window.
His car was parked in the driveway.
“Come in.”
But Simon didn’t move.
“Mason, listen carefully.”
Something in his tone frightened me.
“What?”
“There’s a woman sitting in a car across the street.”
I frowned.
“What woman?”
“She says her name is Evelyn Carter.”
My heart seemed to stop.
Our mother?
Here?
Now?
I rushed toward the window.
Across the street, a dark blue sedan was parked beneath an old oak tree.
A woman sat behind the steering wheel.
Even from a distance, I could see that she was crying.
I pressed my hand against the glass.
“Simon, are you sure?”
“She showed me her identification.”
I could barely speak.
“Why is she here?”
Simon hesitated.
“Because I called her before I left.”
I stared at the car.
Twenty years.
Twenty years of wondering whether our mother had ever thought about us.
Twenty years of believing we were unwanted.
And now she was sitting just a few yards away.
I reached for the front door.
But before I could open it, Simon shouted through the phone.
“MASON, WAIT!”
I froze.
“What?”
“She just told me something.”
His voice was shaking.
“Something about Kenneth.”
I gripped the doorknob.
“What about him?”
Simon took a shaky breath.
“She says he didn’t die the night of the accident.”
My hand fell away from the door.
“What?”
“She says he survived the crash.”
I turned slowly toward Beatrice.
She was staring at me with pure terror.
Simon continued.
“And Mason…”
His voice broke.
“She says she knows exactly who was with him when he died three days later.”
I looked at Beatrice.
Her knees buckled.
She grabbed the edge of the table to keep herself standing.
And before Simon could say another word, Grandma Rose whispered something that made my blood run cold.
“Oh, Beatrice. You told me nobody would ever find out what happened at the hospital.”
TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 4………………..
