“Because I was afraid somebody would use my name anyway,” he said.
After his father died, Peter requested a copy of the old police incident report through the proper records process.
He received a heavily redacted document, but one paragraph disturbed him.
A witness statement attributed to Peter claimed that he had seen Evelyn remove the cabinet.
The statement bore a signature that looked like his.
He had been seventeen when the report was written.
He said he had never signed it.
I felt the familiar urge to solve everything immediately.
Instead, I asked whether he had shown the discrepancy to an attorney.
He said he had recently consulted one and was preparing a formal statement.
I offered to connect him with Lena.
He agreed, but he made one request.
“Please don’t tell my mother where I live.”
I promised that I would not.
Before hanging up, Peter asked whether Evelyn had ever been cleared of the accusations.
I told him I had found no official finding against her, only public rumors.
He breathed out slowly.
“She told me once that the truth could survive a long time without being believed.”
I wrote the sentence in my notebook after the call ended.
It sounded less like optimism than something a person said when optimism had already failed.
Chapter 10: The First Official Meeting
Lena arranged a meeting at the municipal building with a postal inspector named Marcus Lee and a detective named Priya Nair.
I brought copies of my photographs, the security footage, the threatening note, and the public records I had obtained.
I also brought a written timeline with dates and times, careful to separate what I had personally seen from what others had told me.
Marcus thanked me for making that distinction.
He explained that he could investigate interference with mail, while the local police handled threats and other allegations under their jurisdiction.
The older emergency fund dispute might require review by different authorities depending on what evidence emerged.
Priya asked about Marjorie’s exact words on the porch.
I repeated them without embellishment.
When I mentioned Sophie, Priya’s pen stopped moving.
She asked whether Marjorie had made direct threats toward my daughter or merely invoked her name.
I gave the precise language and said I understood the difference mattered.
Priya nodded.
“It matters, and it was still inappropriate.”
Marcus showed me a standard notice explaining how mail recipients could report unauthorized handling.
He asked whether the cream envelope had been opened, damaged, or altered while in my possession.
