Chapter 2

The lounge door was locked from the outside.

An unopened bottle of water and a plate of elegant little desserts sat on the table.

I sat down, folded the notarized document, and slipped it back into my pocket.

My phone vibrated.

A Snapchat message.

Ethan’s profile picture.

He had sent me a photo.

It showed a wall covered with awards and family pictures.

The wall in the Bennetts’ living room. Every picture featured Ethan, from childhood through adulthood.

Not one of me.

A voice message followed.

I played it.

“Take a good look at that wall, Daniel. From the year you left, there hasn’t been a place for you in this family.

You’ve been gone almost twenty years. Dad barely remembers what you look like. What do you think coming back will change?”

I didn’t reply.

He sent another message.

“Oh, did you check on your grandfather before you left? The old man isn’t doing so well, is he? Dad mentioned that the rent on his garage keeps going up. Sounds like he can barely keep it open.”

My thumb stopped over the screen.

He knew about Grandpa.

The next message was a video.

In it, Ethan sat on the living room couch, playing with a strand of dark wooden beads.

I recognized them.

My mother’s prayer beads.

She had worn them around her wrist every day before she died. Later, Grandpa said he couldn’t find them. He thought they’d been lost at the hospital.

“Nice, aren’t they?”

In the video, Ethan waved his wrist at the camera. “Dad gave them to me. Said they belonged to his late wife. I’ve worn them for years. Claire’s complimented them a few times. She says they feel expensive.”

He smiled and brought the camera closer.

“She doesn’t know they were your mother’s.”

I set my phone facedown on the table.

The door opened.

Claire walked in. She had changed out of her white gown and into a light gray jacket.

“You’re still here?”

“The door was locked from the outside.”

She glanced at me, then went to the window and opened the curtains.

“I came to tell you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“Ethan and I have been together for three years. He started pursuing me in college. He writes me letters by hand, including one on every birthday. Thirty-six letters in three years.”

She leaned against the windowsill.

“He’s told me about his childhood. Before he was seven, he lived in a little seaside town with his grandfather. He helped him fix cars every day. His hands always smelled like motor oil.”

My body went slightly rigid.

That was my childhood.

“He said his favorite thing was standing on the docks, watching cargo ships come into port. He said his mother died young and left him a jade pin that he always wears.”

She looked at me.

“Did those things happen to you, too?”

“Not too. They happened only to me.”

One eyebrow rose.

“You’re saying Ethan lied to me?”

“Every story he told you was mine.”

She was silent for three seconds. Then she laughed.

“Daniel, I don’t know if this is about the marriage agreement or something else, but that story is pathetic.

A guy who grew up in a garage crashes an engagement party and claims the groom stole his life? Who do you think I’m going to believe?”

She headed for the door.

As she passed me, she paused.

“You smell like motor oil. Ethan never has.”

The door closed behind her.

I looked down at my hands.

There were still traces under my nails that no amount of scrubbing could remove.

My phone rang again.

This time, it wasn’t Ethan.

It was Grandpa.

“Danny, two men came by. They say the Bennetts sent them to inspect our business license.”