Chapter 5
Julian Vale was thirty-eight, neatly dressed, pale with exhaustion, and sitting in a small conference room beside Detective Soto.
When Margaret entered, he stood.
“Mom.”
She did not hug him.
She did not strike him.
She simply looked at him.
“What did your father do?”
Julian lowered his eyes.
“A lot I didn’t understand until after he died.”
“And what did you do?”
His face tightened.
“Too much because I was trying to keep his mistakes from becoming yours.”
Margaret sat.
“That was never your job.”
“I thought if the truth came out, everything with his name on it would collapse. The foundation. The scholarships. The housing grants.”
“Those things can survive the truth.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No,” Margaret said. “But I know they should not survive because of a lie.”
Julian looked toward Andrew.
“I never knew Daniel was Daniel until Rachel contacted me.”
“Then why did you show him my mother’s letter years ago?” Andrew asked.
Julian looked confused.
“I didn’t.”
Daniel, who had joined them with Rachel, frowned.
“You came to Ashwood.”
“I visited Ashwood many times.”
“You showed me the letter.”
Julian slowly shook his head.
“I showed you a copy of a letter from your mother because my father told me you were David Moore and the letter was from a former guardian.”
Daniel stared.
“You didn’t know who I was?”
“No.”
“Why were you visiting me?”
“My father made me promise before he died that I would continue the payments for David Moore.”
Julian swallowed.
“He told me you had been involved in a financial scandal years ago and that privacy protected you from prosecution and public disgrace. I believed him.”
Andrew closed his eyes.
Another lie.
A son inheriting his father’s deception without knowing its full shape.
Margaret spoke carefully.
“Where is the letter now?”
Julian opened a folder.
“I brought everything.”
The letter was written on cream stationery.
Andrew recognized their mother’s handwriting immediately.
My dear Daniel,
Thomas has told me you are receiving care and that seeing Andrew may worsen your recovery. I do not understand why, but the doctor’s note he provided says you become distressed when your brother is discussed.
Andrew stopped reading.
“What doctor’s note?”
Julian slid another paper forward.
Margaret studied it.
“This signature is forged.”
Rachel leaned over.
May you like
“You’re sure?”
“The doctor named here represented a client of mine twenty years ago. He retired before this letter was written.”
