“I think he had a copy.”
I released his wrist.
“What copy?”
Arthur opened the wooden box.
It appeared empty except for velvet lining.
He pressed one corner.
A concealed compartment clicked open.
Inside rested a small brass key.
Maria stared at it.
Arthur lifted the key.
“Your mother kept records, Daniel.”
“Records of what?”
“Payments. Meetings. Names. Everything she uncovered while she was preparing to leave.”
I looked at the key.
“Where?”
“She created two copies. One vanished after she died.”
“And the second?”
Arthur looked toward Sofia.
“Apparently Gabriel had it.”
Maria covered her mouth.
“But Gabriel died three years ago.”
Arthur nodded.
Sofia tugged at her mother’s sleeve.
“Mommy.”
“Yes, baby?”
“Daddy gave the blue book to the nice man.”
Every adult in the room turned toward her.
Maria’s voice trembled.
“What nice man?”
Sofia shrugged.
“The one who brought balloons.”
“When?”
“When Daddy was in the hospital.”
Maria went pale.
I remembered what she had told me earlier.
Gabriel had spent his final week inside a private hospital room.
Visitors had been limited.
Family.
Doctors.
Two longtime friends.
And one man Maria had never met.
A man who introduced himself as someone connected to Gabriel’s former workplace.
Maria knelt again.
“Sofia, do you remember his name?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, concentrating hard.
Then shook her head.
“No.”
“What did he look like?”
“He wore glasses.”
“Anything else?”
Sofia smiled.
“He had the same ring as Mr. Arthur.”
Arthur’s expression changed.
I looked down toward his right hand.
A gold signet ring.
A small crest engraved into its surface.
The Bell family crest.
Maria slowly stood.
“No.”
Arthur stared at Sofia.
“What ring?”
She pointed.
“That one.”
Then she said something that made the entire room fall silent.
“The nice man said he was your son.”
Arthur seemed to stop breathing.
I studied him carefully.
“You have a son?”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
Too immediately.
Maria stared at him.
“Are you certain?”
Arthur looked almost offended.
“I have never had children.”
Sofia yawned.
“But he said you were his daddy.”
Arthur’s eyes shifted toward the telephone.
The silent line.
The unknown caller.
My mother’s letter.
Gabriel’s notebook.
Elena Bell.
The missing blue book.
The pieces were beginning to connect, but they formed a picture none of us could yet understand.
I looked at Arthur.
“Who else wears that ring?”
