Chapter 6 - The brother erased from our family
Thomas Hayes was seven years older than me.
I remembered fragments after the name returned.
A bedroom nobody discussed.
A photograph my mother burned.
Arguments behind closed doors.
Then one day Thomas disappeared.
I was six.
My parents told me I'd imagined having a brother.
Eventually I believed them.
His records were almost nonexistent.
Military enlistment at eighteen.
Then nothing.
Ortiz used federal contacts.
Most of his service file remained classified.
But one fact surfaced.
Thomas had worked in financial intelligence.
Specifically:
Public corruption networks involving defense contractors and municipal procurement.
Arthur Thorne's world.
Audrey whispered:
“Uncle Thomas was investigating them?”
“Maybe.”
Then we obtained a photograph dated 2008.
Thomas.
Arthur.
Margaret.
All sitting at the same restaurant.
Not surveillance.
Dinner.
My supposedly erased brother wasn't merely investigating Arthur.
He knew him.
Then Arthur requested to speak with me.
Alone.
I refused alone.
Ortiz attended.
Arthur entered without his usual arrogance.
“You found Thomas.”
“You knew my brother?”
“He saved my life.”
That was not the answer I expected.
Arthur claimed the corruption network existed before him.
He had participated.
Taken bribes.
Rigged contracts.
But when he tried leaving, Margaret threatened his family.
Thomas approached him as a federal asset.
Arthur became an informant.
“So why did my investigation collapse?”
“Because Margaret discovered I was cooperating.”
“Then why are you still alive?”
Arthur looked toward the observation glass.
“Because Thomas made a deal.”
“What deal?”
Arthur shook his head.
“Ask Miriam.”
Miriam refused.
Until Ortiz mentioned Rebecca.
Her composure shattered.
“Rebecca wasn't supposed to die.”
The room went silent.
“What does that mean?”
Miriam began crying.
“She was supposed to disappear.”
I stood so quickly my chair fell.
“Rebecca died in my arms.”
Miriam stared at me.
“No, Daniel.”
“You buried someone in Rebecca’s coffin.”
May you like
My body went cold.
“But it wasn't your wife.”
