Fifty-One Calls Before Goodbye

I read Thomas's message until the words stopped looking like words.

The name Daniel Voss belongs to a real person.

And that person disappeared six years ago.

Outside my apartment window, Chicago glittered beneath a cold October sky. Cars moved along the wet streets. Somewhere below, a couple argued beside a taxi, and a delivery driver balanced a paper bag against his chest while searching for an address.

The world was behaving as though nothing had happened.

My daughter was dead.

My husband was coming home.

And somewhere in the middle of our fourteen-year marriage, David Vance had apparently acquired the identity of a missing man.

I called Thomas.

He answered before the first ring finished.

"Tell me exactly what you know.""

"Not enough yet," he said.

"The authorities have confirmed that Daniel Voss existed. He was a financial consultant who disappeared six years ago after traveling overseas. There is no confirmed evidence connecting his disappearance to David.""

"Was he murdered?""

"We don't know that. Don't jump to conclusions.""

I pressed my fingers against my forehead.

"Then why did David have his passport?""

"That's what investigators need to establish.""

"Could David have stolen his identity?""

"It's possible, but we have no proof of that yet. There may be an innocent explanation for some parts of this. We have to follow the evidence.""

I hated that answer.

Not because it was wrong.

Because I had spent fourteen years accepting David's explanations without evidence, and now I was being asked to remain patient while the truth emerged one document at a time.

"What's happening with his flight?"" I asked.

"He's scheduled to arrive at O'Hare tomorrow morning. The relevant authorities have been notified of the timing.""

"Will they arrest him?""

"I can't promise that. If they have a lawful basis to detain or question him, they'll decide what steps to take.""

I looked at Lily's drawing on the bedside table.

"All right.""

"Maya, I need you to stay away from the house tomorrow. Don't approach David, don't send messages, and don't attempt to confront him. Let the investigators do their work.""

"I wasn't planning to approach him.""

"Good.""

I hesitated.

"Thomas?""

"Yes?""

"What if the man David used to be was real? What if the husband I loved was just another identity?""

Thomas didn't answer immediately.

Then he said, "You don't have to solve that tonight.""

We hung up.

I sat on the edge of the bed until the room became completely dark.

At six the next morning, Rachel arrived carrying two coffees and a paper bag of breakfast sandwiches.

She found me standing beside the window in the same clothes I'd worn the previous night.

"Tell me you got some sleep.""

"I got some.""

"How much?""

"Twenty minutes.""

She placed the coffees on the table.

"That's not sleep. That's a very long blink.""

Under different circumstances, I might have laughed.

Instead, I told her about Daniel Voss.

Rachel's expression changed as I spoke.

When I finished, she sat down slowly.

"Six years ago?""

"That's what Thomas said.""

"Do you remember anything unusual happening around then?""

I searched my memory.

Six years earlier, Lily had been one. David had just completed a major investment deal. We'd taken a vacation to Florida, bought a new house, and celebrated his promotion with a dinner attended by people whose names I could barely remember.

There had also been a night when he'd come home at nearly three in the morning with blood on his shirt cuff.

He'd told me he'd cut his hand on a broken glass at a restaurant.

I remembered washing the shirt in the laundry room while he stood in the doorway, talking on his phone.

I remembered the way he'd watched me remove the stain.

I'd never thought about it again.

Until now.

"I remember something," I said.

Rachel leaned forward.

"What?""

"A shirt. There was blood on his cuff.""

"Did he say whose blood it was?""

"He said he'd cut himself.""

"Did you see a wound?""

I shook my head.

"No.""

Rachel stopped moving.

"Maya, did he ever tell you about Daniel Voss?""

"Never.""

"Then tell Thomas about the shirt. Let him decide whether it matters.""

I called my attorney and described what I remembered.

He listened carefully, then asked me to write down the approximate date and any details I could recall.

"Don't embellish," he said.

"If you remember something clearly, document it. If you're uncertain, say so.""

I did exactly that.

At 8:15, Thomas called back.

"The investigators have confirmed David's flight has landed.""

I stood up so quickly I knocked my coffee against the table.

"Where is he now?""

"He's being met by federal agents. I don't have further details yet.""

My heart began pounding.

"What happens next?""

"They'll determine what questions to ask and whether any legal grounds exist for further action. You need to stay where you are.""

I walked to the window.

For years, David had been the person who handled emergencies. When a pipe burst, he called the plumber. When our investment adviser made a mistake, he demanded a meeting. When Lily developed a fever, he checked the thermometer and told me not to panic.

He always looked calm.

Even when I was frightened, he made me feel as though someone else was in control.

Now he was the one walking into an airport with people waiting to ask him questions.

And I couldn't tell whether I wanted him to be frightened or simply honest.

At 9:02, my phone rang.

Unknown number.

I answered.

"Mrs. Vance?""

A man's voice.

"Yes.""

"This is Special Agent Mercer. I'm contacting you regarding information you've provided through your attorney. Your husband has arrived in Chicago.

We may need to clarify certain documents with you, but you should continue working through Mr. Reed.""

"Is David being arrested?""

"I can't discuss operational details. I can tell you that the information you've supplied is being reviewed.""

I gripped the phone.

"Agent Mercer, I need to tell you something else.""

I described the blood on David's shirt cuff six years earlier.

He asked several questions about the timing, the shirt, and David's explanation.

When I finished, he said, "Thank you. Please don't contact your husband about this recollection. If you remember anything further, write it down and notify your attorney.""

"Is this connected to Daniel Voss?""

"I can't confirm that.""

The call ended.

Rachel stood near the kitchen counter, watching me.

"What did he say?""

"Not much.""

"That's probably good.""

I sat down.

"I thought that if I ever discovered David was lying to me, I'd want to destroy him.""

Rachel pulled out the chair opposite me.

"And now?""

"Now I want to know whether he ever loved Lily.""

Her face softened.

"Oh, Maya.""

"He knew she was sick. He knew I was calling. He read my messages. And he still chose not to answer.""

Rachel reached across the table.

"Whatever he felt, whatever excuses he gives, that choice belongs to him. You don't have to solve his heart to know what he did.""

I looked down at my hands.

At 10:47, Thomas called again.

"David has been taken to a federal office for questioning," he said.

"He hasn't been charged with anything based on the information I have. I don't want you to assume more than we know.""

"Can I see him?""

"No.""

"Can I tell him about Lily?""

Thomas's silence lasted only a second, but it was enough.

"Maya, if you choose to communicate with him, we need to discuss the legal implications first. Right now, the best course is to let the investigators work.""

I closed my eyes.

"Fine.""

"There's something else. The authorities have identified a connection between David's company and Daniel Voss's last known business.""

"What kind of connection?""

"A financial one. The details are still being examined.""

I stared at the untouched sandwich.

"Is Daniel alive?""

"We don't know.""

After we hung up, I went into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror.

My face seemed older than it had a week earlier.

I had lost weight. My eyes were red. My wedding ring hung loosely on my finger.

I took it off and placed it beside the sink.

For a long time, I watched it catch the light.

Then I slipped it into a small envelope and wrote David's name across the front.

I didn't know whether I would ever give it to him.

At noon, Rachel drove me to the cemetery.

The rain had stopped, but the grass was soaked. Water collected on the white marble headstones, and fallen leaves clung to the edges of the path.

Lily's grave was marked by a temporary wooden sign.

Her permanent headstone would take several weeks.

I knelt in the wet grass and placed a small bunch of daisies beside it.

"Hi, sweetheart.""

My voice sounded strange in the open air.

"I brought your favorite flowers.""

I brushed a leaf from the wooden marker.

"I don't know how to do this without you.""

The wind moved through the trees.

I waited for some impossible sign that she could hear me.

Nothing came.

I lowered my head.

"Daddy's home, baby.""

My throat tightened.

"He's finally home.""

I sat there until Rachel gently touched my shoulder.

As we walked back to the car, my phone vibrated.

A message from Thomas.

David has been released pending further investigation. He is returning to the estate.

I stopped walking.

"What's wrong?"" Rachel asked.

I showed her the screen.

Her mouth fell open.

"He's going home?""

"Apparently.""

"With the investigators watching him?""

"I don't know.""

We stood beneath the bare branches while the wind lifted the edges of my coat.

Then another message arrived.

This one was from an unknown number.

You think you're the only one who knows what David did? Ask him what happened to Daniel Voss. Ask him why he came home six years ago with blood on his sleeve.

I felt the blood drain from my face.

I hadn't told anyone about the message from the anonymous sender.

I hadn't posted anything about the bloodstained shirt.

And yet someone knew.

I called Thomas immediately.

He told me not to respond and asked me to forward the message.

Then he said something that made my stomach turn.

"Maya, we need to consider the possibility that someone else has access to information about your husband.""

"Someone else?""

"Someone who may know more than either of us.""

I stared at the cemetery gate.

"Who?""