Chapter 4 - The Brother Behind the Glass
Elliot learned the truth on a Thursday.
Rebecca had agreed that he should hear it from her, privately, with his clinical team’s guidance.
She sat in a quiet consultation room while a tablet connected them to his hospital room. She was still too tired for a long visit, and his transplant team was limiting exposure.
On the screen, Elliot looked thinner than the boy who used to steal fries from her plate.
But his eyes were unmistakably his own.
“You’re the donor?”
Rebecca smiled.
“Surprise.”
His mouth trembled.
“That is a terrible surprise.”
“I’ve been told my timing needs work.”
He laughed, then wiped his face.
For a while, neither spoke.
Finally, Elliot said, “Mom told me you weren’t visiting because hospitals upset you.”
Rebecca’s smile faded.
“I was following the team’s instructions. And recovering.”
He looked away.
“I believed her.”
“You were sick, Elliot.”
“I still believed her.”
Rebecca let the silence remain.
She was learning that comforting everyone immediately could become another way of abandoning herself.
“I’m glad we’re talking now,” she said.
Elliot nodded.
“Did Lucian know?”
“Not before the gala.”
“He must be losing his mind.”
“He’s doing a lot of thinking.”
“That sounds worse.”
This time her laugh came easily.
Before the call ended, Elliot held up a small notebook.
“I wrote something while I was waiting for the transplant. In case it didn’t happen.”
“You don’t have to show me.”
“I want to.”
He read a paragraph about the summer their father died, when Lucian had started attending business meetings in a suit that was too big and stopped laughing at dinner.
Then another about their mother.
“She acts like being afraid gives her permission,” Elliot read. “And everyone else acts like surviving her is proof we love her.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
When she opened them, Elliot was watching her.
“I don’t want my second chance to be another excuse for her.”
Afterward, Rebecca rested in Hannah’s car while her sister picked up a prescription.
A message arrived from Lucian.
Elliot said you made him laugh. Thank you.
She typed, He made me laugh too.
Then, after a moment:
Have you eaten today?
The reply took longer.
Yes. A sandwich. An actual one.
She smiled despite herself.
Across the city, Lucian sat with an independent accountant named Nora Bell.
Three folders lay between them.
“The foundation’s annual reports don’t reconcile with several recipient records,” Nora said.
“Explain.”
“Money listed as emergency housing support went to a property company. That company transferred most of it to a consulting firm connected to Malcolm.”
Lucian opened the first folder.
There were photographs from charity dinners.
His mother beside governors.
His uncle shaking hands with hospital administrators.
Children holding oversized ceremonial checks.
“How much?”
“We haven’t completed the review.”
“How much have you found?”
Nora met his eyes.
“Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars in transactions requiring explanation.”
Lucian sat back.
The foundation bore his father’s name.
Rebecca had volunteered there during their first year of marriage, helping families complete applications for medical travel assistance.
Then Celeste had asked her to stop.
She said Rebecca lacked discretion.
Lucian remembered accepting the explanation because Rebecca had said she would find somewhere else to help.
He called her.
When she answered, he asked whether she remembered the foundation’s housing program.
A long silence followed.
“Yes.”
“Did you see something?”
“I asked why three families approved for assistance never received it.”
His hand tightened around the phone.
“What did my mother say?”
“That I didn’t understand how complicated philanthropy was.”
“Did you tell me?”
“Yes, Lucian.”
He closed his eyes.
She did not soften the answer.
Good, he thought painfully.
She should not have to.
“Would you be willing to speak to an independent auditor?”
“Yes. But not as your wife.”
He looked at Nora across the desk.
“As a witness,” he said.
May you like
Rebecca’s voice steadied.
“Then yes.”
