Page 7 of Delilah
But I didn’t, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. Sometimes I wonder if his spirit is still out there, lingering, angry at me for not trying harder.
I chose pancakes over my family.
So in that regard, I deserve his anger. I deserve the guilt.
Most importantly, I deserve the loneliness he was so afraid of.
Chapter 6
Walking through the streets of Meridian City is like walking through the lowest circle of hell. It’s only gotten worse as the years have passed, and even the once pristine streets of the rich side of the city are falling apart.
I flag down a taxi driver and ask him for directions to Jason Lockhart’s law firm, and luckily, he’s still doing business in the city. It’s about a twenty-minute walk, and despite staying up all night, I’m wide awake with anticipation.
I approach the receptionist tightly clinging my picture frames to my chest. She gives me a strange glare, and I realize I probably look like a mess with dust covering my clothes and crying all night.
“Hi,” I start awkwardly. “I don’t have an appointment, but is Mr. Lockhart available?”
“Are you a client of ours?” the receptionist asks.
“No, I uh…”
“I’m very sorry ma’am, but Mr. Lockhart doesn’t accept walk-ins.”
I take a deep breath. “Please. It’s really important.” I take another deep breath and prepare myself for what I’m about to admit.
“My…My name is Caroline Reeves. My father was Christian Reeves. Mr. Lockhart was present when I was adopted. Please let me see him.”
The receptionist gives another office worker across the room a wide-eyed stare of disbelief. “Do you have some form of ID with you?”
I quickly pull out my driver’s license and hand it over. The woman holds it like it might be cursed and then practically shoves it back into my hands before telling me to wait.
I take a seat in one of the leather chairs of the lobby and fidget with a hangnail as I wait. A short while later, I hear footsteps approaching. I look up to see the attorney, and some of the tension leaves my body when we lock eyes. He looks at me like he’s seeing a ghost and I give him an awkward smile.
“Miss Reeves,” he greets, holding out his hand for mine to shake. “My, how you’ve grown.”
“Yeah, seventeen years will do that to you,” I murmur under my breath.
He leads me through the firm until we reach his office and instead of having me sit, he prompts me to stand at a large credenza near his desk. He opens the door to reveal a safe on the bottom shelf. We both stand there staring at it for a minute before he clears his throat.
“I’ll give you a moment,” he says, and then takes a seat at his desk and pretends to work on his computer while he side-eyes me, probably just as curious as I am to see what’s inside.
I kneel on the floor in front of the safe and think about what the combination could be. He never got the chance to give it to me, and I don’t think it would be something as obvious asa birthdate or my adoption date. If it was, someone probably would have gotten into this safe more than a decade ago. I can see some of the numbers are worn down. The lawyer must have tried to open it, assuming I’d never come back to this city after my parents died.
Remembering the letter my father left me, I ponder his words.
Your mother is the best thing I never deserved.
I type in the only other combination that makes sense to me.
0-9-0-6-2-0-1-9
The day my parents met.
Fear and anxiety consume me when the safe unlocks and the door pops open slightly. I gulp, and I can feel the lawyer staring at the back of my head. My hand trembles as I pull open the door further.
All that’s inside the safe is a single manila envelope.
I don’t have the strength to open this envelope near a stranger, so I stand up and wordlessly leave the building.
