Chapter 6 - Someone Had Put the Letter Back
Paper analysis confirmed the letter was genuine.
Ink consistent with the early 2000s.
Fibers correct.
No modern printer trick.
The seal was different.
Old wax beneath.
New conservation resin above.
Someone had opened the folded letter and resealed it within the previous year.
Gabriel asked the obvious question.
“Who had access?”
Too many people.
The Moretti archive had moved twice.
Estate attorneys.
Archivists.
Researchers.
Storage contractors.
Cassandra.
She did not appreciate everyone looking at her.
“Yes, I handled it.”
“When?”
“Eight months ago.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.
“You never mentioned that.”
“I was cataloging uncited correspondence.”
“You resealed it?”
“I stabilized it.”
“Without logging that?”
She went silent.
That was not good.
Then she said:
“Because I didn’t want it removed again.”
Again.
I leaned forward.
“What does that mean?”
Cassandra looked tired suddenly.
Older than she had at dinner.
“My father told me before he died that there had been a disagreement after the fire.”
“Between him and Owen?”
“Yes.”
“About Lupo?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
Gabriel’s attorney asked:
“Why wait until now?”
“I didn’t.”
She had raised concerns with the archive committee six months earlier.
They classified the letter as unresolved historical material.
No urgent legal relevance.
Then Gabriel scheduled the private dinner to discuss a waterfront redevelopment using North Harbor assets.
Cassandra arranged for the letter to be included among documents being reviewed.
“You planted it,” Gabriel said.
“I surfaced it.”
“You could have called me.”
“Would you have taken the call?”
He did not answer.
That was answer enough.
But Cassandra insisted she did not know the full code.
Her shock at dinner had been real.
She knew her father had doubted the old translation.
She did not know why.
Then my mother called.
I had told her only that Grandpa’s name appeared in an archive.
She spent an hour searching his old boxes.
She found one notebook.
Most pages contained ordinary restoration notes.
Near the back:
Lupo is not a man. If this comes back, do not let them make it one.
Underneath:
Wren knows.
I stared at the photograph Mom sent me.
Cassandra stared too.
May you like
Her face went white.
Because if Grandpa was right, her father had known the official translation was wrong.
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