Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN WHO KEPT THE LETTER
Birdie arrived at the hospital shortly after noon.
She carried Teresa's letter in a plain white envelope.
Rafe met her in a small consultation room.
Mave remained nearby but offered to leave.
Birdie shook her head.
"No. You should hear this."
She placed the letter on the table.
Rafe unfolded it.
He read it once.
Then again.
His face didn't change.
But his hands did.
The paper trembled between his fingers.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Birdie began crying.
"Franklin threatened me."
Rafe looked up.
"What?"
"He said if I accused the care facility of wrongdoing, they'd claim I had interfered with your mother's treatment. He said the hospital would investigate me."
Rafe stared.
Birdie continued.
"I was afraid I'd lose my job. Afraid you'd think I'd failed her."
He lowered his eyes.
"You should have told me."
"I know."
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he folded the letter carefully.
"Thank you for telling me now."
Birdie covered her face.
Mave watched him.
She had expected anger.
Perhaps shouting.
Instead, Rafe seemed to become quieter.
That frightened her more.
When Birdie left, Mave asked, "What are you thinking?"
Rafe stared at the letter.
"That I spent five years blaming myself for not being there when my mother died."
Mave sat beside him.
"Where were you?"
"New York. Negotiating a shipping contract."
"Did you know she was dying?"
"No."
"Then you couldn't have known."
Rafe shook his head.
"I should have."
Mave looked at him.
"That's what I tell families every week."
He turned.
"What?"
"That they should have known. Should have visited. Should have noticed."
She paused.
"Grief makes people believe they had control over things they couldn't control."
Rafe studied her.
"And what do you tell them?"
"That loving someone doesn't make you all-knowing."
Silence.
Then Rafe looked down.
For the first time in years, he allowed himself to cry.
Later that afternoon, Naomi Whitcomb called.
She had received the emergency notification from Rafe's attorney.
She wanted to speak directly with Mave.
The call was arranged through the hospital's legal office.
Naomi's voice was calm.
"Ms. Callahan, I understand you have physical evidence concerning Thornfield Senior Living."
"Yes."
"Are you willing to surrender it for examination?"
"To your office, with a documented chain of custody."
"That's appropriate."
Mave hesitated.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"The person who supplied the notebook is still alive."
Naomi paused.
"I was told Howard Keterman was deceased."
"He is."
"Then who gave it to you?"
Mave looked toward the door.
Rafe stood outside.
She lowered her voice.
"His daughter."
Naomi waited.
Mave continued.
"Her name is Clara Keterman. She's seventeen."
"Where is she?"
May you like
Mave closed her eyes.
"That's the part I haven't told anyone."
