Alive.
My father was alive.
And somehow Evelyn had known.
I rose slowly and faced her.
“What did you do?”
Evelyn closed her eyes for one second, as if gathering the pieces of herself back into place.
“When your father disappeared,” she said, “it was not because of me.”
“Disappeared?” I repeated. “You told me he was dead.”
“I told you what Jason told you.”
“No.” My voice sharpened. “You stood beside my hospital bed and called it tragic. You wore black to the funeral. You held my hand while I cried.”
A flicker of something crossed her face. Regret, perhaps. Or fatigue.
“Your father made dangerous choices,” she said.
Daniel stepped in. “Mrs. Mitchell, I strongly advise you to stop speaking unless you intend to provide a formal statement.”
She ignored him again.
“There were legal matters involving your father and Mitchell Medical Technologies. Research ownership. Early patent claims. He threatened to challenge Jason publicly.”
