On a rainy evening, Daniel brought an unknown man named Michael to our apartment. He claimed that he should meet with a friend, but his nervous behavior immediately showed me that he was hiding something.
When I finally confronted him with this, Daniel was silent for a few moments.
“I was going to tell you,” he murmured.
“What exactly?”
He looked toward the bedroom door, as if checking to see if Michael could hear us.
“I didn’t meet with a friend tonight. I’ve known who Michael is for three weeks now.
“Who is he?”
Daniel swallowed hard.
“My uncle.”
The Man He Thought Was Dead
Over the years, Daniel has told me many stories about his family. His father, Robert, had passed away eight years earlier, while his mother had died before we met. However, he never mentioned an uncle named Michael.
“Your father had a brother?”
“Da.”
“Then why didn’t you ever tell me about him?”
“Until three weeks ago, I thought he was dead.”
Michael was Robert’s younger brother. When Daniel was a child, he often stayed at their house. He also knew our apartment well, because it used to belong to Daniel’s grandparents.
He even recognized the old wooden clock in the living room. It was he who gave it to Robert for his thirtieth birthday.
When Daniel was 11 years old, Michael suddenly disappeared. His parents told him that his uncle got involved in drug problems, stole family money and fled after facing charges. A few years later, his mother told him that Michael had died.
It turned out that none of this was entirely true.
The conversation from the kitchen that revealed the first secret
The next morning I woke up before six o’clock. Daniel wasn’t next to me, and there were muffled voices coming from the kitchen.
I quietly approached the half-open door.
“You’ve got to tell her,” Michael used to say. “If you intend to continue with this, your wife deserves the truth.”
“I need proof first.”
“You’ve seen the documents.”
“I’ve seen copies.”
