The Apartment in Philadelphia
Chapter 07 - The Apartment in Philadelphia
June traveled to Philadelphia with Marian. They didn't tell Adrian until they were on the train, partly because June wanted one decision in her life that wasn't arranged by a billionaire's staff. Adrian understood, although he asked her to contact police if anyone threatened them.
Samuel Price met them at his former office. He was elderly, careful, and visibly troubled by the story. Daniel had contacted him after receiving a letter claiming Marian and June had died in an apartment fire. Price later discovered no such fire had occurred. He had tried to reach Daniel again, but the letters were returned.
“He thought we were dead?” Marian whispered.
Price nodded. “Someone provided fraudulent notices. I couldn't establish the source at the time.”
He gave them Daniel's most recent address, a small apartment above a print shop. They arrived to find the building manager carrying boxes onto the sidewalk. Daniel had moved after an illness. He had left forwarding instructions with a community health center.
At the center, a receptionist checked their information, then went inside. A few minutes later, a tall, tired man emerged with a cane. His dark hair had gone mostly gray. He looked at Marian, stopped walking, and let the cane fall.
“Marian?”
She covered her mouth. June stood beside her, barely breathing.
The man turned to her. His eyes filled. “June?”
“You know my name?” she whispered.
“I've known it every day of my life.”
The reunion was not simple. Daniel had believed the false notices for years, then learned they were forged and been unable to locate his family after several moves. Marian had believed he'd deliberately vanished. June didn't know whether she wanted to embrace him or demand answers.
They sat in a quiet room and talked until the center closed. Daniel apologized for the choices he'd made and showed June a battered sketchbook filled with drawings he'd made of how he imagined her growing up.
May you like
One page showed a small girl beside a red-brick house. Underneath he'd written: THE HOME I OWE HER.
June cried—not because the years could be returned, but because the man she'd imagined as indifferent had been grieving too.
