Chapter 7 - The Room on 4th AvenueThe rain had turned into a steady, freezing drizzle by the time Julian stepped out of his car in front of St. Jude’s Women’s Refuge. The building was an imposing brick structure with peeling yellow paint and iron bars over the lower windows.
Julian walked past two security guards at the front desk, holding out his bar association ID and a stack of hundred-dollar bills. Money opened doors faster than warrants in places like this.
"Second floor, Room 208," the night supervisor muttered, pocketing the cash without looking Julian in the eye. "She came in an hour ago, soaked to the bone. Don't make trouble."
Julian climbed the narrow, creaking staircase, his leather shoes echoing off the linoleum floors. The hallway smelled of bleach, damp wool, and cheap institutional soap.
He stopped outside Room 208. His hand hovered over the wood for a long, agonizing moment before he knocked gently.
"It's unlocked," a quiet, raspy voice called out from inside.
Julian pushed the door open.
The room was tiny—a single metal frame bed, a small wooden wardrobe, and a small window looking out onto an alleyway. Evelyn sat on the edge of the bed, wearing a faded navy cardigan, drying her wet gray-streaked hair with a small towel.
She didn't look surprised to see him standing in her doorway in a tuxedo.
"I knew you'd come," she said softly, setting the towel aside. Her dark eyes were tired, but filled with an incredible, soft warmth as she looked at him. "You always had your father's sharp nose, Julian... but you have my eyes."
Julian stood frozen near the door, his throat so tight he could barely breathe.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice trembling despite his best efforts to stay composed. "My father told me my mother died in a car crash on Highway 99 when I was four years old."
Evelyn let out a bitter, heartbreaking laugh. "Arthur told you what was convenient for him. He wiped me out of your life like a smudge on a windowpane."
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Julian stepped closer, pulling the faded scanned photograph from his pocket. "Prove it to me. Prove you're Evelyn Vance."
"I was never a Vance," she said quietly, looking up at him. "My maiden name was Evelyn Mercer. And thirty years ago, your father didn't just take you away from me, Julian... he stole my entire life."
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