THE SECRET BENNETT TOOK TO HIS GRAVE
Gerald explained that Bennett had once been a wealthy businessman.
Not extremely wealthy.
But successful.
He’d built an engineering company from nothing and eventually sold it for millions.
Then came Eleanor.
His wife.
His best friend.
And Desmond.
Desmond was eight when Bennett married Eleanor.
Bennett legally adopted him when he was twelve.
“He was h
“So what happened?”
Gerald opened one of the old letters.
“Eleanor died when Desmond was nineteen.”
“How?”
“Stroke.”
My heart sank.
“But Desmond blamed Bennett.”
“For what?”
Gerald looked down.
“For making the decision to stop resuscitation.”
I stared at him.
“Was Bennett wrong?”
“No.”
The room became silent.
“The doctors told Bennett Eleanor’s brain had been without oxygen too long. Continuing would have been cruel. Bennett made the decision.”
“But Desmond arrived eleven minutes later.”
Gerald nodded.
“And he never forgave him.”
I looked at the letters.
“Twenty years?”
“Twenty years.”
“Why didn’t Bennett tell me?”
Gerald’s answer was quiet.
“Because he was ashamed.”
I opened the newest letter.
It was addressed to me.
My hands trembled.
