Chapter 4 - THE RED COAT THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN GONE
“Marcus had my mother's coat. I saw him with it.”
Alina stood in the parish office, gripping the silver watch so tightly that its edge pressed into her skin.
Dominic stepped toward the door.
“Where did he take it?”
“I don't know. I thought Dad had asked him to bring some old clothes to a charity.”
“Was he alone?”
“No. Victor's driver was waiting outside.”
Dominic's expression became serious.
“Then we need to ask Robert what was in that coat.”
Alina shook her head.
“Not until I speak to him myself.”
She was finished letting powerful men control the order in which she learned the truth.
When she returned to the church, Marcus and Victor were still near the altar.
The guests had mostly departed.
Robert sat in the second pew, looking twenty years older than he had that morning.
Adrien stood by the aisle.
He approached Alina.
“Are you all right?”
“No.”
The answer was blunt.
He stopped.
She looked at his face, searching for the boy she'd loved.
“You came back with secrets, Adrien. My father has secrets. Everyone seems to know something about my life except me.”
“I understand.”
“No,” she said. “I don't think you do.”
He accepted the criticism.
“You're right. I can't know what this feels like for you.”
Her expression softened slightly.
It was the first time someone had resisted telling her how she should feel.
She turned to Robert.
“Where is Mom's red coat?”
Robert closed his eyes.
Marcus moved immediately.
“This is absurd.”
Alina ignored him.
“Dad?”
Robert's hands trembled.
“I kept it.”
“Where?”
“In the cedar wardrobe upstairs.”
“No, you didn't.”
His eyes opened.
“I saw Marcus take it out of the house three weeks ago.”
The silence became heavy.
Victor glanced at Marcus.
That small exchange told Adrien something important.
Victor hadn't known.
Marcus had acted without his father's instructions.
Alina noticed, too.
“What did you do with it?” she demanded.
Marcus spread his hands.
“It was an old coat.”
“It was my mother's.”
“And it had been sitting in a closet for years.”
“Where is it?”
He looked away.
Alina stepped closer.
“Marcus.”
Finally, he answered.
“In a storage unit.”
“Why?”
Marcus's face hardened.
“Because your father asked me to remove some belongings.”
Robert shook his head.
“I never asked you to take that coat.”
Marcus turned sharply.
“Be careful, Robert.”
Adrien moved between them.
“That's enough.”
Victor raised his voice.
“You are not taking my son anywhere.”
Adrien looked at him.
“I haven't suggested that.”
But Dominic was already checking the storage location through his business contacts.
Within minutes, he found the facility registered to one of Marcus's private companies.
Alina insisted on going.
Father Paul offered to accompany Robert home, but Robert refused.
“I need to be there,” he said. “I've hidden too much already.”
They drove to the storage facility in two vehicles.
Alina rode with Robert and Father Paul, who had agreed to come as a neutral witness.
Adrien and Dominic followed.
Marcus arrived in his own car.
Victor refused to accompany them.
Before leaving, he caught his son's arm.
“Whatever you've done,” he whispered, “don't make it worse.”
Marcus pulled free.
“For once, Father, stay out of it.”
That exchange stayed with Adrien.
He had always believed Marcus followed Victor without question.
Perhaps that had changed.
At the storage facility, Marcus unlocked a metal door.
Inside stood several boxes, old furniture, and clothing bags.
Alina immediately spotted the red coat.
It hung from a metal rack, protected by a clear garment cover.
Meera had worn it every Christmas.
She'd called it her lucky coat, although the lining had torn near the left pocket.
Alina crossed the room and touched the sleeve.
For an instant, she was nineteen again, standing in the flower shop while her mother laughed and complained about the cold.
She pressed her face against the fabric.
It still carried the faint scent of cedar.
“Mom,” she whispered.
Adrien looked away, allowing her privacy.
Then Alina checked the pocket.
Empty.
She checked the lining.
There was a fresh line of stitching where the fabric had once been torn.
Her heart began pounding.
“Who repaired this?”
Marcus didn't answer.
Alina looked at him.
“Who stitched the lining?”
“I had it cleaned.”
She stared at the seam.
“My mother repaired everything herself. She used blue thread for this coat.”
The new stitches were black.
Alina pulled a small seam ripper from the emergency sewing kit she kept in her handbag.
She had carried the kit to repair her wedding dress if necessary.
Instead, she was using it to open her mother's coat.
The black thread gave way.
Inside the lining was a flat paper sleeve.
Empty.
Alina turned toward Marcus.
“What was here?”
His expression changed.
Robert covered his mouth.
Adrien stepped forward.
“Marcus, tell her.”
Marcus's voice rose.
“You think this is about a piece of paper?”
“Then what is it about?” Alina demanded.
Marcus looked toward his father, though Victor wasn't there.
Then he said something nobody expected.
“Your mother asked me to keep it.”
Alina stared at him.
“My mother was barely speaking during her final months. She couldn't stand you.”
“She didn't trust my father,” Marcus replied. “That's different.”
Adrien narrowed his eyes.
“When did she ask you?”
“Three days before she died.”
Robert shook his head.
“No. She never mentioned seeing you.”
Marcus looked at him.
“Because you weren't there.”
Robert went pale.
Marcus reached inside his jacket.
He removed a small photograph.
It showed Meera Hart sitting in a hospital chair, wearing her red coat.
Marcus stood beside her.
He looked younger, frightened, and strangely uncertain.
On the back was a date.
February 18.
The same date hidden inside the silver watch.
Alina's hands shook.
“Why would Mom meet you?”
Marcus looked exhausted.
“Because she knew what my father was planning.”
Adrien studied him.
“And she trusted you to stop it?”
Marcus's voice lowered.
“No.”
He looked at Alina.
“She trusted me to decide whether I wanted to become him.”
For the first time, Marcus seemed less like a victorious groom and more like a man who had spent years carrying something he couldn't bear to examine.
“What was inside the coat?” Alina asked.
Marcus swallowed.
“A receipt. A photograph. And a recording.”
“Where are they?”
He looked at the boxes surrounding them.
“I hid them somewhere my father wouldn't think to look.”
“Where?”
Marcus didn't answer immediately.
Then he reached into the nearest box and removed an old wooden jewelry case.
Alina recognized it.
Meera had kept her wedding necklace inside.
Marcus opened the lid.
The necklace was gone.
In its place lay a cassette tape and a brass locker key.
Across the cassette was a handwritten label.
FEBRUARY 18 — MEERA AND VICTOR.
Alina reached for it.
Marcus caught her hand, but this time he released it immediately.
“Before you listen,” he said, “there's something you need to understand.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
Marcus's eyes filled.
“Your mother didn't ask me to protect that recording from my father.”
May you like
He took a breath.
“She asked me to protect it from yours.”
