Chapter 3
Arthur drove us back to Grandpa's house before the funeral flowers had even begun to wilt.
Aunt Renee sat beside me in the back seat.
Uncle Thomas followed in his own car.
Grandma had left the reception separately.
Nobody knew whether she'd gone home.
I watched the familiar streets pass outside the window.
Everything looked normal.
The grocery store where Grandpa bought my favorite cereal.
The park where he taught me to ride my bicycle.
The bakery where he always bought two cinnamon rolls, even though Grandma said he should only eat one.
I wanted to go back to yesterday.
Or last week.
Or any morning when Grandpa was still alive.
Aunt Renee noticed me crying.
She squeezed my hand.
"What's wrong, baby?"
I looked at her.
"I don't want to forget his voice."
Her eyes filled.
"You won't."
I swallowed.
"What if I do?"
She pulled me close.
"Then we'll help you remember."
I rested my head against her shoulder.
When we reached the house, the front door was unlocked.
Arthur stopped.
"Did someone leave it open?"
I shook my head.
"Grandpa always locked it."
He looked concerned.
Uncle Thomas arrived.
The adults checked the entrance before letting me inside.
Nothing seemed broken.
But the hallway looked different.
A table drawer stood open.
Several folders lay on the floor.
I stared at them.
"Grandma?"
Nobody answered.
Arthur asked me to stay with Renee while he and Thomas checked the rooms.
I sat on the sofa.
My hands trembled.
Then I noticed something near the fireplace.
Grandpa's framed photograph was missing from its usual shelf.
I stood.
"Where's Grandpa's picture?"
Aunt Renee followed my gaze.
The photograph had stood there for years.
Grandpa holding me when I was three.
We were both laughing.
Now it was gone.
I felt tears rising.
"Grandma took it."
Renee hugged me.
"We'll look for it."
Arthur returned a few minutes later.
His face was serious.
"Several cabinets in the study have been opened."
Uncle Thomas stood behind him.
"Someone was looking for something."
I swallowed.
"The blue book?"
Arthur looked at me.
"Possibly."
I stood.
"I know where it is."
He knelt beside me.
"Maya, are you sure?"
I nodded.
"Grandpa showed me."
Aunt Renee looked concerned.
"Why would he do that?"
I remembered the afternoon clearly.
Grandpa had been sitting in his library.
He called me inside.
Then showed me how a small wooden panel behind the bookshelf could slide open.
Inside was a little metal compartment.
He placed a blue notebook there.
Then he looked at me.
"Sunshine, sometimes grown-ups forget that honesty matters."
I laughed because I thought he was telling one of his strange stories.
But he looked serious.
"If Arthur ever asks about this book, you can show him."
I asked whether Grandma knew.
He shook his head.
"Not yet."
I had promised to keep the secret.
Now Arthur was asking.
I walked toward the library.
My feet felt heavy.
Grandpa's favorite chair stood beside the window.
His reading glasses rested on the desk.
A half-finished crossword puzzle lay beneath a pencil.
For one terrible moment, I expected him to walk in.
He didn't.
I stared at the chair.
Then began crying.
Arthur stood quietly beside me.
"We can take a moment."
I shook my head.
"I want to show you."
I walked toward the tall bookshelf.
Grandpa had filled it with books about history, business, and gardening.
I reached behind the lowest shelf.
My fingers found the small wooden latch.
I pushed.
The panel moved.
Arthur leaned closer.
Inside was the metal compartment.
I opened it.
The blue notebook was there.
So was a small black flash drive.
And a photograph of my mother.
I gasped.
"Mommy."
I reached for the picture.
She was standing outside our old apartment.
Her arms were wrapped around me.
I looked about four.
She was smiling.
I pressed the photograph against my chest.
Arthur gently removed the notebook and flash drive.
Uncle Thomas stared at them.
"Marcus really did keep records."
Arthur nodded.
"I believe so."
He placed everything into a folder.
Then he turned toward me.
"Thank you, Maya."
I wiped my cheeks.
"Grandpa said you'd know what to do."
Arthur looked away for a moment.
His eyes were wet.
"I'll do my best."
Then we heard the front door slam.
Grandma.
Her voice echoed through the hallway.
"ARTHUR!"
I froze.
Aunt Renee stepped closer.
Grandma entered the library.
Her black funeral dress was wrinkled.
Her pearl necklace hung crookedly.
She looked furious.
"What are you doing in Marcus's private room?"
Arthur held up the folder.
"Following his instructions."
Grandma saw the blue notebook.
Her face changed.
"Give me that."
Arthur shook his head.
"No."
She stepped closer.
"That belongs to my husband."
"It was specifically identified for preservation."
Grandma looked at me.
"You showed him."
I stepped backward.
Aunt Renee moved between us.
"Don't threaten her."
Grandma pointed at me.
"She had no business touching that shelf."
My eyes filled.
"Grandpa told me to."
"He's dead!"
The words struck me like a slap.
I began crying.
Uncle Thomas stepped forward.
"Evelyn, enough."
She looked toward the notebook again.
Then suddenly changed her tone.
"Arthur, please."
He watched her carefully.
"Those records could hurt innocent people."
I frowned.
"What people?"
Grandma ignored me.
She reached toward him.
"Let me explain before you read anything."
Arthur stepped back.
"We can discuss the records with the appropriate professionals present."
Grandma's eyes widened.
"You're making a mistake."
Then her phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
For a moment, fear crossed her face.
She answered quietly.
"Not now."
A man's voice came through.
I couldn't hear every word.
But I heard one sentence clearly.
"Did he find the ledger?"
Grandma turned away.
Arthur's expression changed.
"Who is that?"
She ended the call.
"Nobody."
Uncle Thomas frowned.
"Evelyn."
She shook her head.
"Leave me alone."
Then she hurried upstairs.
Arthur looked toward the staircase.
I felt frightened.
But I also felt curious.
Because the voice on Grandma's phone sounded familiar.
I had heard it before.
Usually late at night.
When Grandma thought I was asleep.
And suddenly, I remembered the name she sometimes whispered.
Calvin.
I looked at Arthur.
Then said quietly, "Grandma has a friend Grandpa didn't like."
His face changed.
"What friend?"
I swallowed.
"His name is Calvin."
May you like
Arthur went completely still.
And for the first time, I saw fear in the lawyer's eyes.
