Chapter 6 - WHAT HIS FATHER LEFT BEHIND
“My father died before I met you.”
Dominic spoke quietly.
For once, there was no command in his voice.
Evelyn stared at the ledger photograph.
Arthur Vale.
The name was handwritten beside the number 417.
A date appeared underneath.
Fourteen years earlier.
Two years before Evelyn's mother died.
“Why would your father have anything to do with my mother's illustrations?”
Dominic looked toward the darkened windows.
“Because he funded a children's hospital program.”
Caroline crossed her arms.
“Through a company that later became Harborlight.”
Evelyn looked between them.
“You're telling me your father owned the company that used my childhood drawings?”
“Not exactly,” Dominic answered.
“He invested in the original nonprofit technology project. The business changed hands twice afterward.”
“And you knew?”
“I learned about the connection after we married.”
“When?”
Dominic hesitated.
Evelyn felt her patience thinning.
“Tell me when.”
“Six years ago.”
The same year Lily had written to her.
The same year Dominic had intercepted the letter.
The same period when Evelyn began noticing that invitations to exhibit her artwork had stopped arriving.
She sat down slowly.
“Six years ago,” she repeated.
Dominic nodded.
“An attorney handling my father's estate found a box of old program records.”
“Where is it?”
“In storage.”
“Do you still have it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
His jaw tightened.
“Because I believed the documents could hurt you.”
Evelyn stared at him.
“Documents don't usually hurt people, Dominic. What other people do with them does.”
He looked away.
Margaret approached the table.
“I need to understand something.”
Everyone turned.
“Did Arthur Vale knowingly acquire illustrations created by a minor for commercial use?”
Dominic shook his head.
“No. My father supported the hospital's nonprofit initiative.”
Caroline nodded reluctantly.
“That part matches the original records.”
“Then who converted those rights into commercial property?”
Caroline hesitated.
“The earliest transfer I found was executed by a company called Redbridge Educational Services.”
Rose frowned.
“I remember Redbridge.”
Evelyn turned.
“You do?”
“They approached North Street Gallery about licensing educational artwork years ago.”
“Did you work with them?”
“No. Their terms were terrible.”
Caroline's eyes narrowed.
“Who contacted you?”
Rose thought for a moment.
“A man named Leonard Price.”
Dominic went still.
Evelyn noticed immediately.
“Who is Leonard Price?”
“My father's former business partner,” Dominic said.
Caroline added, “And the man who currently controls thirty percent of Harborlight.”
Evelyn stared.
“Is he here tonight?”
Dominic didn't answer.
Margaret did.
“He's chairman of our corporate education advisory board.”
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Outside, applause rose from the ballroom.
Someone was accepting an award.
Evelyn looked toward the sound.
“Does he know I'm here?”
Caroline's expression darkened.
“He specifically asked Dominic to keep you away from the installation.”
Evelyn slowly turned toward her husband.
“That's why you told me to hide my face.”
Dominic exhaled.
“Yes.”
The admission should have felt like an answer.
Instead, it opened something worse.
“You knew he was afraid of me?”
“I knew he didn't want questions about the licensing history.”
“And you helped him.”
Dominic shook his head.
“I was trying to finish an internal investigation before anything became public.”
Evelyn felt anger rise.
“You could have told me.”
“Yes.”
The answer was so unexpected that she stopped.
Dominic looked directly at her.
“I should have told you.”
There was no excuse attached.
No demand that she understand.
For one brief moment, his honesty made the room feel less hostile.
Then Caroline spoke.
“Dominic, tell her about the escrow account.”
His expression changed.
Evelyn looked at him.
“What account?”
Caroline approached the table.
“Your husband placed royalties from your original illustrations into an account under your name.”
Evelyn stared.
“How much?”
“Approximately three million dollars.”
She blinked.
Three million.
She had spent years asking Dominic whether she could pay to renovate her studio.
He had told her it was impractical.
Meanwhile, three million dollars sat somewhere under her name.
“Where is it?”
Dominic answered.
“Restricted.”
“By whom?”
He didn't respond.
Caroline's voice hardened.
“Leonard Price disputed Evelyn's ownership rights. The funds were frozen while the companies argued over the original agreements.”
Evelyn looked at Dominic.
“And you decided I shouldn't know?”
“I wanted to resolve it.”
“Without me.”
“Yes.”
“Again.”
He lowered his eyes.
“Yes.”
Evelyn stepped away from the table.
She needed air.
She needed distance from men who treated her life like a business problem requiring confidential management.
Margaret followed her onto a quiet balcony overlooking Chicago.
The city stretched beneath them in cold silver lights.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Margaret said, “I owe you an apology.”
Evelyn looked at her.
“For what?”
“I invited you tonight partly because I wanted to honor your work.”
“Partly?”
Margaret nodded.
“I also suspected something was wrong.”
Evelyn frowned.
“How long?”
“Six months.”
“Why?”
“Because our educational director discovered that Harborlight's license files contained two different ownership certificates.”
Evelyn folded her arms against the cold.
“One with my name?”
“Yes.”
“And the other?”
“Your mother's.”
Evelyn stared.
Margaret continued.
“One described a charitable grant. The other described an outright sale of intellectual property.”
“And you knew one had to be false.”
“I suspected.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I tried.”
Evelyn felt a bitter smile form.
“Through Dominic's office.”
Margaret lowered her head.
“Yes.”
For a moment, the older woman looked genuinely ashamed.
“I should have come directly to you.”
Evelyn thought about all the people who had trusted Dominic to speak for her.
All the people who assumed access to a husband meant access to his wife.
“That's what everyone keeps saying,” she whispered.
Margaret nodded.
“And it's true.”
She reached into her evening bag.
“I brought something tonight.”
A small cream envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Evelyn recognized her mother immediately.
Margaret Hartwell stood beside her, both women younger, smiling outside St. Catherine's Children's Hospital.
Between them stood Lily.
Seven years old.
Purple sweater.
Crooked haircut.
A drawing clutched against her chest.
Evelyn stared at the photograph.
“My mother knew you?”
Margaret's eyes softened.
“We served on the same hospital advisory committee.”
“Why didn't she ever tell me?”
“Because our work wasn't the important part of that summer.”
“What was?”
Margaret looked toward the ballroom.
“The children.”
Evelyn studied Lily's face.
“She looks happy.”
“She was.”
Margaret hesitated.
“Lily has been trying to get something to you for years.”
Evelyn's heart tightened.
“Is she here?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn turned so quickly her bracelet caught the balcony light.
“Where?”
Margaret's expression became troubled.
“She was scheduled to speak tonight. But shortly before the benefit began, someone told her the invitation had been withdrawn.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“Dominic?”
“I don't know.”
Evelyn looked back at the photograph.
There was something written on the reverse.
She turned it over.
In her mother's familiar handwriting:
Evelyn must receive the blue envelope when she is ready.
Beneath it was a date.
The day before her mother's final hospitalization.
Evelyn looked up.
“What blue envelope?”
Margaret's face tightened.
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
Back inside, the orchestra had started playing.
Dominic stood alone near the private-room entrance.
When he saw Evelyn, his expression changed.
“Are you all right?”
“No.”
He accepted the answer.
She held out the photograph.
“Have you seen this?”
Dominic looked at it.
His face drained.
“Where did you get that?”
“Margaret.”
He stared at the handwriting.
Then he looked toward Caroline.
“Where's the blue envelope?”
Caroline went completely still.
Evelyn felt dread move through her.
“You know about it?”
Dominic spoke without taking his eyes from Caroline.
“That envelope was in my father's archive.”
Evelyn whispered, “What was inside?”
Caroline's composure finally broke.
“I didn't open it.”
Dominic's voice hardened.
“Where is it?”
Caroline looked down.
“Leonard Price took it.”
Evelyn gripped the photograph.
“When?”
Caroline raised her eyes.
“Three days ago.”
Then Dominic's phone vibrated.
A message appeared on the screen.
He read it.
His face turned gray.
Evelyn watched him slowly lower the phone.
“What is it?”
Dominic looked directly at her.
“Leonard just instructed the auction staff to resume the sale of your original painting.”
Evelyn frowned.
“Margaret canceled it.”
“I know.”
He swallowed.
“And he's offering five million dollars for the painting, on one condition.”
“What condition?”
May you like
Dominic's voice was barely audible.
“That you publicly confirm you never created the illustrations.”
