I watched two children race their scooters across the apartment courtyard.
The ordinary sounds made the conversation feel more unreal.
“The inventory says the trunk was transferred,” I replied.
“It doesn’t prove what was inside it or where it went.”
Caroline acknowledged the distinction.
She was learning to be careful after years of believing a man who made certainty sound like affection.
Before ending the call, she asked whether Jessica was safe.
I was startled by her concern.
“She is an adult who made a terrible choice,” I said.
“That doesn’t mean I want her hurt.”
Caroline was quiet for a moment.
“That’s more generosity than Richard has ever shown either of us,” she answered.
CHAPTER 7: The Voice on the Phone
Richard called me at seven that evening from a number I did not recognize.
I answered only after activating the call-recording feature permitted by my phone settings and telling him I intended to keep a record of the conversation.
“You enjoy making trouble, David?” he asked.
“I asked you to leave my house, and you left,” I answered.
“That part is finished.”
“You have been talking to my wife.”
“She contacted me about a historical records question.”
Richard laughed once without humor.
“You think this is about history?”
He said Mara had been troubled as a teenager and had made false accusations against people who tried to help her.
I asked whether he was confirming that she was alive.
The line went quiet.
“I did not say that,” he replied.
I could hear a car indicator ticking in the background.
He told me not to contact the woman pretending to be his daughter.
I asked whether he had reported an impersonation to the authorities.
“I don’t owe you an explanation,” he said.
I agreed.
Then I told him I would not be his messenger, and I ended the call.
I saved the call record and wrote down his statements while they were fresh.
Aaron listened from the kitchen doorway.
“Does he know about your father?” he asked.
I shook my head.
My brother had been eleven when our father worked at the Mercer Street building, but he remembered the long days and the late-night calls.
“Dad came home angry one night,” Aaron said.
“He took the telephone off the hook and told Mom nobody was to answer for a while.”
I asked what else he remembered.
“He had a brown envelope with a photograph sticking out,” Aaron said.
