The words landed quietly.
I had not expected him to say them again, but I was glad he did.
“Yes,” I said. “You did.”
We stood in silence for another moment.
Then I got into the car.
The old family history had changed shape, but it had not absolved him.
On the way back to the lake house, I rested a hand on my stomach and watched the neighborhood pass by.
My mother had accepted help when she needed it, then asked for privacy.
Alexander’s father had honored that request.
Neither of them had told me.
Perhaps they had believed silence was a kindness.
Perhaps they had been right.
At home, Daniel prepared a formal request for any surviving clinic records.
He also continued reviewing the company accounts.
The letter had answered one question while making the older payments more confusing.
If Alexander’s father had used a discretionary fund to support patients and staff, that could explain why
