The truth.
That word had become a lantern and a knife.
I looked at Evelyn.
She stood very still, but her eyes were fixed on the phone like it might explode in my hand.
“What truth?” I asked.
“I can’t explain all of it like this,” he said. “Not safely. But listen carefully. Do not trust the first file you find. And do not let Evelyn destroy the medical folder.”
Evelyn’s lips parted.
Daniel heard enough to step closer. “Mr. Caldwell, this is Daniel Brooks, Iris’s attorney. Are you willing to meet under protected circumstances?”
There was another silence.
When my father answered, his voice changed. It became cautious, measured.
“Is Evelyn there?”
Daniel looked at her. “Yes.”
“Then no. Not yet.”
“Dad,” I said, clutching the phone harder, “please. I watched you die. I went to your funeral.”
