“Meet me tonight,” Arthur said without hesitation. “I’ll text you the location.”
“Arthur—”
“And Christine,” he added, voice lower, “do not go home with Daniel.”
My breath caught, because that was exactly what Robert’s note in my purse said.
For a moment, I couldn’t move. Arthur’s last words echoed in my ears while the wind carried the distant sound of car doors closing behind me.
Do not go home with Daniel.
“Christine?” Arthur said gently. “Are you still there?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Stay calm. Nothing has happened yet,” he said. “But Robert didn’t come to me lightly. He was unsettled.”
I looked again. Daniel and Laura were still scanning, their eyes moving from face to face.
“I think they’re looking for me,” I said.
“That’s all right,” Arthur replied. “Finish the funeral. Act normal. Tonight we meet. I’ll text you an address. Quiet place. No one from the family goes there.”
I swallowed. “What exactly did Robert leave with you?”
A pause. “An envelope,” Arthur said. “And instructions.”
“What kind of instructions?”
“I was not to open it unless you contacted me first.”
My heartbeat pounded harder.
“And if I hadn’t called?” I asked.
“I would have waited,” Arthur said. “A week.”
A week.
Which meant if Lucas hadn’t given me that note, if I had simply gone home with Daniel like they expected, Arthur would have stayed silent. That thought sent a shiver through my spine.
“I’ll see you tonight,” Arthur said quietly, then hung up.
I stared at Mrs. Carter’s phone screen for several seconds, my reflection pale and older than I remembered feeling yesterday. Then I handed it back with a quiet, “Thank you.”
I walked toward the group.
Daniel spotted me immediately. “Mom,” he said, moving quickly. “Where did you go?”
“I was speaking with Mrs. Carter,” I said.
“You had us worried,” he replied, voice smooth, but his eyes were sharp.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, and I let the sentence sit there, because it was both reassurance and warning.
Laura joined us. “We’re about to head to the reception hall,” she said. “Everyone’s already leaving.”
“All right.”
Daniel studied my face. “You look exhausted.”
“I feel exhausted.”
“You should ride with us,” he said. “You shouldn’t drive today.”
“That’s kind,” I said. “But I’d like a little time alone.”
Daniel frowned. “Mom—”
“I’ll meet you there,” I said gently.
He hesitated, weighing whether to push. Margaret stepped forward, touching his arm. “Let her breathe, Daniel. Grief is different for everyone.”
“Exactly,” I said.
Daniel nodded slowly. “All right. But promise you’ll come straight to the hall.”
“I promise.”
