Chapter 13 - The Father Who Looked AwayOn Tuesday evening, Daniel asked me to meet him in Mara's studio.
The room had become our unofficial headquarters.
Photographs, architectural drawings, and copied financial records covered the drafting table.
Naomi had insisted that we distinguish original documents from working copies and preserve everything properly.
Daniel followed those instructions with almost painful care.
When I arrived, he was standing beside the window, holding a folder.
“Dad, there's something I haven't told you.”
I stopped.
“What?”
He turned.
“About the remediation work in 2023.”
I frowned.
“What about it?”
“I approved a payment.”
“To whom?”
“Northstar Environmental.”
The company that had issued the disputed Eastbank reports.
I looked at him.
“How much?”
“Eight hundred and seventy thousand dollars.”
My chest tightened.
“Why?”
“Peter said new groundwater barriers were needed before the property could be marketed.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
“That's what I thought.”
He opened the folder.
“But the project engineer raised concerns. He said the proposed work didn't address the original utility channel.”
I remembered June's map.
“The channel beneath the old residential block?”
Daniel nodded.
“He wanted additional testing.”
“And?”
“Peter said it would delay the project by a year.”
I waited.
Daniel looked down.
“I authorized the payment without requiring the extra testing.”
I stared at him.
“Did you know there was contamination outside the industrial property?”
“I knew there might be historical uncertainty. I didn't know the full 2004 story.”
“Then why didn't you investigate?”
He gave a tired, bitter smile.
“Because I was grieving. Because Sophie needed me. Because Peter told me the company could handle it.”
He swallowed.
“Because I wanted one part of my life to be simple.”
I couldn't speak.
The answer was too familiar.
Daniel continued.
“After Mara died, everything felt impossible. Breakfast. Bedtime. Meetings. People asking if I was okay.”
His eyes filled.
“I'd sit through presentations and realize I hadn't heard half of what anyone said.”
He touched the folder.
“Peter knew that. He would put documents in front of me and tell me they were routine.”
“Did you read them?”
“Sometimes.”
He looked at me.
“Not carefully enough.”
I pulled out a chair.
“Daniel, failing to investigate isn't the same as deliberately falsifying a report.”
“I know.”
“But it matters.”
“I know that too.”
He sat opposite me.
“I keep thinking about Mara.”
I waited.
“She tried to tell me there were problems with Eastbank.”
“When?”
“During her last year.”
He rubbed his eyes.
“She said she wanted to review some old company records.”
“What did you tell her?”
Daniel's voice broke.
“I told her to stop working and focus on getting better.”
I looked away.
“She said some things mattered even if she didn't have much time left.”
He began crying.
“And I told her the company wasn't her responsibility.”
Neither of us spoke for a long time.
Outside, wind moved through the bare branches.
Finally, Daniel looked at me.
“I was angry with her, Dad.”
“Why?”
“Because she was dying.”
I stared at him.
“I knew it wasn't fair. I knew she couldn't help it. But every time she opened another folder instead of resting, I wanted to scream.”
His breathing became uneven.
“I thought if she stopped searching for problems, she'd have more time with us.”
I reached across the table.
He pulled his hand away.
“Don't tell me it wasn't my fault.”
I sat back.
“I'm not going to.”
He looked at me, surprised.
“You made mistakes,” I said. “So did I. But Mara's illness wasn't caused by either of us.”
Daniel wiped his eyes.
“And what happened to those families?”
I lowered my head.
“That part is my responsibility.”
He stared at the folder.
“Then we have to fix what we can.”
I nodded.
“And tell the truth about what we can't.”
A small knock came at the door.
Sophie stood outside holding Bunny.
“Daddy?”
Daniel immediately wiped his cheeks.
“Come in, sweetheart.”
She approached cautiously.
“Are you mad?”
He looked confused.
“No. Why?”
“Grandpa talks loud.”
I felt a sharp pang of guilt.
Daniel lifted her into his lap.
“Grandpa and I were talking about something difficult.”
She studied his face.
“Did you do a bad thing?”
He hesitated.
Then answered with extraordinary gentleness.
“I made some mistakes.”
“Like spilling juice?”
He smiled sadly.
“A little bigger than spilling juice.”
Sophie considered this.
“Say sorry.”
Daniel looked at me.
I swallowed.
“She's right.”
He kissed her forehead.
“Yes. Sometimes that's where we start.”
She rested her head against him.
“Then clean it up.”
I looked at the papers covering Mara's desk.
The contaminated land.
The falsified reports.
The missing money.
The broken trust.
If only our mess could be cleaned with a towel.
Later, after Sophie went to bed, Daniel showed me an email he had found in his archived company account.
It was from Peter, dated two days after Daniel approved the 2023 remediation payment.
Thanks for trusting me on this. The fewer people revisiting the original Eastbank material, the better for everyone.
I read it twice.
Daniel watched me.
“That's what made me suspicious.”
“When did you find it?”
“Last week. While reviewing the older contract files.”
I put down the phone.
“Peter wasn't simply hiding his current fraud.”
“No.”
Daniel's face hardened.
“He was hiding the same lie he'd been helping conceal since 2004.”
Then he opened a second message.
This one had been sent from Peter to Claudia several months before she married Daniel.
It had no attachment.
Only one sentence.
Once you're inside Ashcroft, find out whether Mara left the original survey.
I stared at it.
May you like
Claudia had not stumbled into Peter's scheme after marrying my son.
Her entrance into our family had been part of the plan.
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