Chapter 3 - THE LETTER THAT NEVER ARRIVED
The next morning, Daniel canceled every meeting on his calendar.
His assistant, Grace Holloway, looked stunned.
“You have the quarterly board review.”
“Reschedule it.”
“The Singapore investors—”
“Grace.”
She stopped.
Daniel looked at her.
“I found my daughter last night.”
Grace's expression softened.
She had worked for him for eleven years.
She knew he had never married.
She knew he avoided questions about his personal life.
And she knew there was one photograph he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk.
A photograph of a young woman laughing beside a piano.
“Daniel,” she whispered.
He nodded.
“Emily.”
Grace sat down.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Daniel asked:
“Who handled my personal correspondence sixteen years ago?”
Grace hesitated.
“Your uncle.”
Daniel went still.
Richard Whitmore.
His father's younger brother.
The man who had invested in Daniel's first company.
The man who had managed his finances during the early years.
The man who had told Daniel that Emily had chosen someone else.
Daniel felt cold.
“Find the old correspondence records.”
Grace nodded.
“I'll see what still exists.”
He looked toward the window.
Outside, Chicago was covered in snow.
Somewhere in the city, Emily was waking up beside their daughter.
May you like
His daughter.
And Daniel realized that sixteen years of silence might not have been an accident.
