I didn’t have an Uncle Robert.
I spent the whole drive back to Providence trying to remember. Had my father ever mentioned a brother? There were no photographs. No family stories. No uncle at Thanksgiving. Gregory Prescott was an only child. That’s what I’d always been told.
I called Margaret from the car.
“Robert Prescott,” she said after a few minutes. “Born 1961. Five years younger than your father. Died in a car accident in New Hampshire in 1994. Car went into a river. Body was never found.”
“Body was never found,” I repeated. “Just like Dr. Reeves.”
There was a long silence on the line.
“Then we’re dealing with something much bigger than a family fight over money,” Margaret said.
“I need to talk to Arthur.”
The next morning, I drove to Arthur Delgado’s office downtown.
His receptionist was a young woman named Kayla. She looked nervous the second I walked in.
“Mr. Delgado hasn’t been in for three days,” she said. “He said he was driving up to his cabin in Vermont. But his daughter called yesterday. He never got there.”
My blood went cold.
“Did he say anything before he left? Anything unusual?”
She hesitated. Then she opened a desk drawer.
“He said if anybody came looking for him, I should give them this. He said especially if it was you.”
She handed me a sealed envelope. My name on the front, in Arthur’s neat handwriting.
I opened it in my car. My hands were shaking.
Alyssa,
If you are reading this, something has happened to me. Robert found out I had the ledger. He knows everything now.
Your father did not die of a heart attack. He was poisoned. Slowly, over months. The medication was switched by someone he trusted. Someone who had access to his food, his drinks, his daily routine.
It was not your mother. She is a thief. She is not a killer.
The man who murdered your father has been hiding in plain sight for thirty years. He changed his name. He changed his face. And he waited.
Look at the photographs in your father’s house. Your grandmother’s eightieth birthday party. There is a man in the background, near the garden. Tall. Gray hair. That is him.
That is Robert.
He wants the company. He wants everything. And he will kill anyone who stands in his way.
I am sorry I could not protect you better. Your father made me promise.
Be careful, Alyssa. Please. Run if you have to.
Arthur.
Ethan Blake is a skilled Creative Content Specialist with a talent for crafting engaging and thought-provoking narratives. With a strong background in storytelling and digital content creation, Ethan brings a unique perspective to his role at TheArchivists, where he curates and produces captivating content for a global audience.
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