Chapter 4 - THE DAUGHTER THEY STOPPED TALKING ABOUT
Nora found Harold waiting in the kitchen at six forty-five the next morning.
He was sitting on a wooden stool, wearing his cardigan backward.
A plate of sliced oranges sat untouched beside him.
“Morning, Mr. Brooks.”
“Call me Harold.”
She hung up her coat.
“All right, Harold.”
He looked toward the doorway.
“Is Sebastian here?”
“Not yet.”
“Good.”
Nora raised an eyebrow.
“That sounds suspicious.”
Harold reached into his pocket.
He placed a photograph on the counter.
A woman in her early forties stood outside a small blue building, holding a tray of freshly baked bread.
She had Margaret's smile.
“That's Evelyn,” Harold whispered.
Nora studied the photograph.
“She looks happy.”
“She was.”
“Was?”
Harold lowered his eyes.
“I don't know anymore.”
Nora turned the photograph over.
Margaret's message was written on the back.
Please bring our girl back home.
She read it twice.
“When did your wife write this?”
“Two weeks before she died.”
Nora felt her chest tighten.
“And she wanted you to find Evelyn?”
Harold nodded.
“I tried.”
“What happened?”
“Sebastian told me to leave it alone.”
Nora sat opposite him.
“Why?”
Harold was quiet for a long time.
Then he said, “Because he's angry about things that happened a long time ago.”
The story emerged slowly.
Evelyn Brooks had worked for the family construction company before Sebastian sold his technology firm and began investing in real estate.
She was talented, outspoken, and deeply interested in affordable housing.
Harold had wanted her to take over community development projects.
But Sebastian believed the company needed to pursue luxury properties and larger contracts.
Arguments grew.
Evelyn accused her brother of abandoning the principles their parents had built the business around.
Sebastian accused her of sentimental thinking.
Then came the Merrimon Avenue project.
The old family house stood on a street of modest homes and small businesses.
Sebastian had proposed a redevelopment plan that would replace several aging commercial properties with expensive townhouses.
Evelyn opposed it.
She had helped local residents organize alternatives.
The project collapsed.
Sebastian lost a major investor.
And the family stopped speaking.
“But why didn't Evelyn come to the funeral?” Nora asked.
Harold looked down.
“That's the part I never understood.”
At nine, Sebastian entered the kitchen carrying a briefcase.
He stopped when he saw his father sitting there.
“Dad?”
Harold looked up.
“We're having breakfast.”
Sebastian glanced at Nora.
“Why is he in the kitchen?”
“Because he has legs,” she answered.
Harold chuckled.
Sebastian ignored her.
“Dad, Dr. Reyes wanted you to rest after yesterday.”
“She wanted me to eat and move. I am doing both.”
Sebastian hesitated.
Then he noticed the photograph.
His expression changed instantly.
“Where did you get that?”
Harold placed his hand over it.
“It's mine.”
“Dad.”
“It's a picture of your sister.”
“I know who it is.”
Nora looked between them.
Sebastian turned toward her.
“Please give us a moment.”
She nodded.
“Of course.”
But before she left, Harold caught her sleeve.
“Stay.”
Sebastian stared.
His father looked at him.
“She works here now. She's heard enough to know we have a family.”
“This is private.”
“Then perhaps we should have discussed it privately thirteen years ago.”
Sebastian's jaw tightened.
“Evelyn made her choice.”
Harold looked at him.
“Did she?”
“She publicly opposed the family business.”
“She opposed your project.”
“She cost us millions.”
“She believed people would lose their homes.”
Sebastian leaned against the counter.
“We've had this argument.”
“No,” Harold said quietly. “You've made your argument. I've spent years listening.”
Sebastian stared at him.
Harold continued.
“Your mother wanted us together again.”
The mention of Margaret stopped him.
“Don't use Mom to make me feel guilty.”
Harold's eyes filled.
“I'm not using her. I'm remembering her.”
Nora quietly stepped away.
The men needed space.
But as she reached the pantry, she heard Sebastian say something that made her stop.
“Evelyn knew Mom was dying. She didn't come.”
Harold answered with a trembling voice.
“She said nobody told her how sick Margaret had become.”
Sebastian's voice sharpened.
“That's ridiculous.”
Harold looked at him.
“Then who was supposed to call her?”
Silence.
Sebastian said nothing.
Because the truth was uncomfortable.
Margaret had asked him to call Evelyn.
Three times.
He had intended to.
He had convinced himself he would do it when he wasn't angry.
When the time felt right.
When the family wasn't under so much stress.
Then his mother died.
And the call was never made.
That afternoon, Nora drove to Merrimon Avenue.
She had no intention of involving herself in a property dispute.
But Harold had asked whether she could purchase a loaf of bread from a particular bakery.
He had given her the address.
The building was small, painted blue, and decorated with flower boxes beneath the windows.
A sign above the door read:
THE COMMON TABLE — BREAD, COFFEE & COMMUNITY.
Inside, the air smelled of cinnamon and fresh bread.
A woman stood behind the counter kneading dough.
Nora recognized her immediately.
Evelyn Brooks.
“Can I help you?” Evelyn asked.
Nora smiled.
“I'd like a loaf of sourdough.”
“Of course.”
“And perhaps some information.”
Evelyn raised an eyebrow.
“What kind?”
Nora hesitated.
Then she placed Harold's photograph on the counter.
Evelyn went perfectly still.
“Where did you get that?”
“Your father.”
The color drained from Evelyn's face.
“Is he all right?”
“He's struggling.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
Nora continued gently.
“He misses you.”
For several seconds, Evelyn didn't speak.
Then she whispered, “My father has my number.”
“He seems to think you don't want him to call.”
Evelyn looked away.
“That's complicated.”
Nora nodded.
“Most families are.”
Evelyn stared at the photograph.
Then she said something Nora hadn't expected.
“I came to the house the night before my mother's funeral.”
Nora felt cold.
“What happened?”
Evelyn's eyes filled.
“Sebastian's security wouldn't let me through the gate.”
She swallowed.
“They said my brother had ordered that I wasn't welcome.”
Nora stood motionless.
“And your father?”
May you like
Evelyn shook her head.
“He never knew I was there.”
