Page 55 of Proof

“Indeed.”

Ellie turned to Chi-Chi. “And what about you, my dear?”

Chi-Chi began to blush and fan her face. “Let us say that I am very content with my relationship with this woman’s brother.”

“This is what I like to hear. My girls being loved by two wonderful men. And trust me, there aren’t many of them out there.”

“Don’t we know it.” Luna chuckled.

Within the hour, they finished their tête-à-tête. Chi-Chi had returned to her shop when Abeo slinked in like a criminal. Full of shame. Chi-Chi uttered a tsk-tsk.

“Oh, but you were the one who set up the dinner, were you not?” He tried to throw the blame in her direction.

“It was dinner that I arranged. Whatever transpired afterward was of your own doing.”

Abeo jerked his head. “Have you met that woman?” He shivered. “She is someone you do not contradict.”

Chi-Chi laughed. “Why are men so stupid?”

“It is not stupid. It was an ambush.”

“Stand up,” Chi-Chi ordered.

“What?”

“I said stand up!” she repeated. He obeyed.

“You see? You are taller than I am. You are bigger than I am. You are not a victim.”

“You don’t know that woman.” Abeo shook his head. “It is very difficult to say ‘no’ to her.”

“Repeat after me: ‘No.’”

“No,” he obliged.

“See. It is that easy.” Chi-Chi was laughing to herself. It had gone exactly as she intended. Though she hadn’t anticipated it would go on for two days.

* * *

Back in her café, Luna opened her laptop again. She was on a mission. She typed in both Brendan’s and his wife’s names again. Still nothing. Once again, she found herself drumming her fingers on the table. She jumped when her phone buzzed with a new text. It was from Anthony. It had a crying emoji and a postage stamp – sized photo of Brendan with a very brief obituary. She started to shake. She kept reading the short notice over and over:

Brendan Nelson, age 37, born November 28, 1986, in Greensboro, NC. Died January 27, 2024. A summer memorial is being planned.

Tears were streaming down her face. “This can’t be. It just can’t be,” she said out loud. She read it again. “But why? How? And there’s no mention of any of his family members, including his wife.” She immediately phoned Anthony.

He answered with, “I can’t believe it. Did you get my second text?”

Luna was sniffling. “No. I’ve been frozen on this one.”

“Well, you need to read the next text. It’s bizarre.”

“Hang on.” Luna swiped her phone to read the second notice:

Eileen Lovecraft age 37, born July 5, 1986, in Minnetonka, MN. Died January 30, 2024. A summer memorial is being planned.

“I don’t understand,” Luna whimpered. “What happened?”

“Nobody seems to know, or if they do, they’re not talking.” Anthony sighed. “When I reached out to his nephew, all he did was forward the obits. Very bizarre.”

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