Chapter 3 - THE LETTER IN THE COOKIE TIN
The next morning, Gabriel returned to Benny's.
This time, he came with only Leo.
The diner was open.
Customers sat at the counter.
Coffee steamed behind the register.
Norah was carrying plates when Gabriel entered.
She stopped.
He looked healthier than the previous night, though still exhausted.
“Miss Bennett.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You remembered my name.”
“I remember everything important.”
Norah set down her tray.
“What do you want?”
Gabriel hesitated.
“To talk about Rosa.”
They sat in the corner booth.
Norah told him about Apartment 4B.
About Rosa's small kitchen.
About the old photographs she kept in a cookie tin.
Gabriel leaned forward.
“Photographs?”
Norah nodded.
“She gave me the tin before she died.”
His heart pounded.
“Do you still have it?”
“Yes.”
“Can I see it?”
Norah studied him.
“You can't just demand things because you're rich.”
Gabriel blinked.
Then nodded.
“You're right.”
He took a breath.
“Would you please let me see it?”
That evening, Norah brought the tin to the diner.
Inside were photographs.
Letters.
A small silver cross.
And an envelope addressed to Gabriel.
His hands trembled as he opened it.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
His mother's.
My beautiful boy,
If you ever read this, know that I never stopped loving you.
They told me you were dead.
I prayed they were wrong.
I waited for you every day.
Gabriel stopped reading.
His vision blurred.
The letter continued.
Your father said he buried you.
But I never saw your grave.
I never believed a mother could feel her child was alive and be completely wrong.
Gabriel pressed the paper against his chest.
For twenty-two years, he had believed his mother abandoned him through death.
Now he understood.
Someone had separated them.
Deliberately.
He looked at Leo.
“Find out who told my mother I was dead.”
Leo nodded.
Gabriel looked back at the letter.
May you like
Then whispered:
“Father.”
