Chapter 9 - THE LETTERS
Evelyn returned to the hospital under guard.
Malik was brought to her.
The reunion silenced everyone.
Evelyn sat in bed when Thomas entered carrying him.
For one second Malik simply stared.
Twenty-two months old.
Too young to understand three missing years.
Too young even to remember the mother taken from him when he was an infant.
But something happened.
He looked at Evelyn.
Evelyn whispered, “Hi, baby.”
Malik reached toward her.
“Mama?”
Evelyn broke.
Thomas placed him in her arms.
She held him against her chest and cried until she could barely breathe.
Arthur stood near the doorway.
Three years earlier, his family had shattered.
Now pieces were returning.
Not cleanly.
Not easily.
But returning.
Later, while Malik slept beside Evelyn, Thomas gave her the letters Arthur had written.
Eleanor had kept them in a locked cabinet.
Dozens.
Unopened.
Evelyn touched them like sacred objects.
“She told me he hated me.”
Arthur sat beside her.
“I was angry.”
“I know.”
“I was wrong.”
“So was I.”
Arthur took her hand.
“No more lost years.”
Evelyn nodded.
Then she opened one letter.
Arthur had written it two months after Malik's birth, though he had never known Malik existed.
Evie,
I don't care who was right.
I care that you're my daughter.
Come home whenever you're ready.
Arthur looked away.
Evelyn cried silently.
Thomas stood near the window.
When Evelyn noticed him, she asked, “Why didn't you question your mother?”
Thomas looked ashamed.
“I did at first.”
“And then?”
“She gave me medical reports saying you were unstable.”
“They were fake.”
“I know that now.”
“You let her raise my son.”
Thomas flinched.
“That isn't fair.”
“Three years aren't fair.”
Arthur stood.
“Evelyn.”
“No. He needs to hear it.”
Thomas looked at her.
“I looked for you.”
“You stopped.”
“I had Malik.”
“So did I.”
The sentence hit him.
Evelyn looked down at the sleeping toddler.
“They told me he died of pneumonia.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
Arthur felt rage return.
Dr. Hale had fabricated death records.
Blackwood staff had reinforced the lie.
Eleanor had built a prison out of paperwork.
Evelyn continued.
“I survived because I decided I would see his grave myself one day.”
Thomas whispered, “There was no grave.”
“I know.”
Her voice softened.
“And now he's here.”
For the first time, Thomas moved closer.
“I am sorry.”
Evelyn didn't forgive him.
Not yet.
May you like
But she nodded.
That was enough for one night.
