Chapter 6
“I saw them through the nursery window.
All four.”
Her voice broke.
“Such tiny babies.”
My eyes burned.
“Did you know how sick they were?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know I nearly died?”
“Yes.”
“And you left?”
Margaret nodded.
The room seemed to tilt.
For eight years, I had wondered whether my children might have been loved by their paternal grandparents if only someone had told them.
Now I knew.
Someone had told them.
And they had chosen silence.
I turned toward the enormous portrait of General Reynolds.
The medals.
The immaculate uniform.
The stern expression.
I remembered how Daniel had worshipped his father.
How every decision in our marriage had been measured against what the general would approve.
And suddenly, the past looked different.
But Margaret wasn't finished.
“There was something else.”
I faced her.
“What?”
She glanced toward the portrait.
“Robert didn't merely forbid me from visiting.”
Her hands shook.
“He made arrangements to ensure you would never receive financial support from the Reynolds family.”
Daniel frowned.
“What arrangements?”
Margaret looked at him with exhausted sadness.
“Your father established a private trust years before your marriage.”
“I know about the family trust.”
“No,” she whispered.
“Not that one.”
She reached into her handbag.
And removed a small brass key.
## THE LOCKED ROOM BEHIND THE GENERAL'S PORTRAIT
Margaret led us down a narrow hallway toward the general's former study.
Daniel followed, demanding explanations.
Victoria came too.
So did Daniel's younger sister, Rebecca, who had been standing near the staircase throughout the confrontation.
I remembered Rebecca as a kindhearted teenager who had once helped me decorate our first apartment.
Now she was thirty, married, and visibly shaken.
“Mother,” Rebecca said, “what are you doing?”
Margaret stopped before a heavy oak door.
“Something I should have done eight years ago.”
She unlocked it.
The study smelled of old leather, cedarwood, and expensive cigars.
Military photographs lined the walls.
A massive mahogany desk stood beneath a portrait of General Reynolds.
Margaret approached a cabinet.
She opened its lower compartment.
Inside sat a black document box.
She placed it on the desk.
Daniel stared at it.
“What is that?”
“Your father's private records.”
“Why are we discussing his records with Kesha?”
Margaret looked at him.
“Because some of them concern her children.”
My heartbeat quickened.
Margaret opened the box.
Inside were several thick folders, sealed envelopes, and a small digital storage device.
She selected a blue folder.