“Why?”
“The form doesn’t say.”
“And the note about a daughter?”
“It was attached to the paperwork. The insurer kept a scanned copy.”
Daniel clicked on a file.
A handwritten note appeared on the screen.
The ink was faded, but David recognized the slant of the letters immediately.
His father’s handwriting.
If anything happens to me, please contact Marisol Santos. The funds are for her and our daughter. Eleanor must not control this money.
Maya covered her mouth.
David read the sentence again.
Then again.
The words did not change.
“Our daughter,” he whispered.
Maya turned toward him.
“We don’t know what he meant.”
“What else could it mean?”
“We don’t know.”
David looked at her face, searching unconsciously for signs of his father.
The shape of her eyes.
The line of her jaw.
The quiet way she pressed her lips together when she was frightened.
