I slowly sat.
Eleanor continued.
“He was twenty-four when I met him. Brilliant. Reckless. Funny. Always late.”
Despite everything, I smiled.
“That sounds unfortunate.”
“He once arrived forty minutes late to a financing meeting because he stopped to help a man whose truck had broken down.”
My smile disappeared.
Eleanor noticed.
“Yes.”
She pushed the envelope closer.
“You’re more like him than you know.”
“Why do you have this?”
Her eyes filled.
“Thomas gave it to me after you were born.”
I stared at the envelope.
“He knew about me?”
“Oh, Christopher.”
Her voice broke.
“He loved you.”
The words hit somewhere deep.
A wound I had stopped acknowledging years ago suddenly opened.
“My mother told me he left.”
“He did.”
“Then how could he—”
“Because his family threatened her.”
I stared.
Eleanor explained.
The Vale family had money even then.
Not Marcus money.
Not empire money.
But enough power to intimidate a young single mother.
