Chapter 2 - The Weight of Silence
The holding room in the police station was freezing cold.
Clara sat behind the thick glass panel.
Mark sat across from her in an orange jumpsuit.
His hands were cuffed in front of him.
He looked like he had not slept in days.
“Why did you come, Clara?” he asked quietly.
“The lawyer needed my signature for the bail bond.”
“Did you sign it?”
“No,” Clara said.
Mark swallowed hard and looked at the table.
“I don’t blame you,” he muttered.
“Explain the date, Mark.”
“June fourteenth.”
“The day my dad passed away in the hospital.”
Mark gripped his cuffed hands together.
“Sarah was your father’s secret accountant.”
Clara stared at him with complete disbelief.
“My dad was a high school history teacher.”
“He didn't have a secret accountant.”
“He did,” Mark insisted.
“Your father managed a community charity fund.”
“Two hundred thousand dollars went missing back then.”
“Sarah stole it,” Clara said bitterly.
“No,” Mark said.
“Your father gave it to her.”
Clara stood up from her chair immediately.
“Do not insult my dead father!”
“Sit down, Clara, please!”
A guard stepped closer to Mark’s chair.
Clara slowly sat back down.
Her hands were shaking violently.
“My father was an honest man,” she said.
“He was,” Mark agreed gently.
“He gave her the money to save a life.”
“Whose life?” Clara demanded.
“He bought medical treatments for a sick child.”
“What child?”
Mark did not answer.
He clamped his jaw shut tight.
“Answer me!” Clara shouted.
“I promised your father I would never tell.”
“He made me swear on his deathbed.”
“So you took the blame for seven years?”
“I protected his legacy for you.”
“And what about Leo?” Clara asked.
“Is Leo my father’s child?”
Mark lowered his head toward the metal counter.
“Leo is Sarah’s son.”
“Who is the father?”
Mark remained completely silent.
Clara stood up and grabbed her purse.
“I am selling the bakery, Mark.”
Mark raised his head quickly.
“You can’t do that!”
“It’s in my name too,” she said.
“I need money to hire my own lawyer.”
“I am filing for divorce tomorrow morning.”
Mark reached out against the glass wall.
His palms left smudges on the clear surface.
“Please don’t destroy our family, Clara.”
“We don’t have a family, Mark.”
“We only had lies.”
She walked out of the police station into the rain.
She drove straight to her late father’s house.
The old wooden home was quiet and dusty.
Nobody had lived there for six years.
She went up to the attic.
She unlocked her father’s heavy wooden trunk.
She pulled out old bank ledgers and photo albums.
At the bottom lay a yellowed manila envelope.
It was marked with red wax.
The seal had already been broken years ago.
Inside was a medical receipt from a hospital.
The receipt was dated eight years ago.
It was a payment for bone marrow testing.
The patient’s name was Sarah Miller.
The donor’s name was blacked out with ink.
Clara held the paper up to the desk lamp.
Under the bright light, faint letters appeared.
The donor was her father, Arthur.
Clara gasped and dropped the paper.
Her father had donated bone marrow to Sarah.
Why would he keep that a secret from his daughter?
Her phone began to ring loudly in her coat.
It was her attorney, Richard.
“Clara, you need to come to the bakery now.”
“What happened?”
“Sarah Miller posted bail an hour ago.”
“She is at your shop right now with a locksmith.”
Clara drove through the heavy downpour.
She pulled up outside the bakery.
The front window was illuminated from inside.
Sarah Miller stood near the cash register.
She was holding a crowbar in her hand.
Little Leo sat on a chair in the corner.
He was crying softly into his hands.
Clara pushed the front door open violently.
The chime above the door rang loudly.
“Get away from that counter!” Clara screamed.
Sarah turned around slowly.
She looked tired, desperate, and thin.
Her dark hair was pulled back tightly.
“You must be Clara,” Sarah said coldly.
“Leave before I call the police!”
Sarah pointed the crowbar at the wooden floor.
“The money isn’t in the house, Clara.”
“Mark hid the rest of it under these floorboards.”
“Mark never stole anything!” Clara shouted.
“He took it to pay off your debts!”
Sarah laughed bitterly.
“Mark didn’t do it for your father.”
“He did it for you.”
Clara froze in the middle of the aisle.
“What are you talking about?”
Sarah stepped closer to Clara.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a key.
“Ask Mark who saved your life seven years ago.”
“When you had severe kidney failure.”
“When the hospital said you had two days left.”
Clara felt the floor slip beneath her feet.
Seven years ago, she had suffered sudden organ failure.
An anonymous donor had saved her life.
She never knew who the donor was.
Mark had told her the donor wished to stay private.
“It was you?” Clara whispered.
“It was me,” Sarah said softly.
“I gave you my kidney.”
“And Mark paid you for it?”
“No,” Sarah said, her voice breaking.
“Your father paid off my family’s debts first.”
“Then I donated my organ to save his daughter.”
“Mark promised to take care of my son if I died.”
“I was dying of cancer back then, Clara.”
“The doctors told me I had six months.”
Clara stared at Sarah’s frail frame.
“You survived,” Clara said.
“I survived,” Sarah said tears filling her eyes.
“But the medical bills destroyed my life.”
“Mark gave me money every month from the bakery.”
“He took it from your joint savings.”
“He lied to you to protect my privacy.”
“He didn't want you to feel guilty.”
Clara touched her lower right abdomen.
The faint surgical scar was still there.
“Why did the police find the money box?” Clara asked.
Sarah lowered the crowbar to the ground.
Her body began to shake with heavy sobs.
“Because I put it there yesterday,” Sarah confessed.
“My ex-husband threatened to take Leo away.”
“He forced me to frame Mark for fraud.”
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“He is standing outside in that black car right now.”
The glass door behind Clara suddenly shattered into pieces.
