Now she wondered whether the box contained the same letters Arthur had never received.
She reached into her handbag and took out her phone.
She searched for an old photograph of her mother.
There it was.
Margaret Parker, smiling beside a Christmas tree.
Emily enlarged the picture.
Behind her mother, on a shelf, was the familiar wooden box.
She looked toward Arthur.
“Grandpa?”
He raised his head.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
The word sounded strange coming from him.
But it also felt strangely natural.
“My mother had a wooden box. I think she kept old letters and photographs in it.”
Arthur's eyes widened.
“Do you still have it?”
“Yes.”
“Have you opened it?”
“No.”
Arthur looked down.
“Then perhaps we should.”
Emily nodded.
“I'll look through it when we land.”
He gave her a grateful smile.
Then he returned to his documents.
The flight lasted nearly five hours.
During that time, Emily learned more about her family than she had learned in twenty-nine years.
Arthur told her about Eleanor.
He described how they had met at a small charity event in Boston when he was twenty-eight and she was twenty-six.
Eleanor had been a schoolteacher.
She had no interest in wealth or social status.
In fact, when Arthur first introduced himself, she had assumed he was an ordinary accountant.
He had been so nervous that he spilled coffee on her dress.
She laughed instead of getting angry.
They married two years later.
Their daughter, Margaret, was born three years after that.
Arthur spoke about her childhood with a tenderness that made Emily's chest ache.
Margaret had loved music.
She played piano whenever she was upset.
She hated thunderstorms but always insisted on sleeping with the curtains open.
She had been stubborn, intelligent, and fiercely independent.
When she was seventeen, she told Arthur she wanted to study literature rather than business.
He had supported her decision.
“I wanted her to have a life that belonged to her,” he explained. “I never wanted her to feel that she had to inherit my company.”
Emily listened quietly.
“Then why did she leave?”
Arthur looked down.
“Because after your grandmother died, I became a different man.”
He paused.
“Eleanor had been ill for almost two years. I knew she was dying, but I couldn't accept it. I spent every available moment at the hospital. When she passed, I returned to the office because I thought work would help me survive the grief.”
He rubbed his hands together.
“I stopped noticing what was happening around me. Richard was making decisions. People were telling me I needed rest. And I trusted them.”
Emily frowned.
“Did you argue with my mother?”
“Yes.”
“About what?”
Arthur took a long breath.
“She wanted me to sell the company and spend more time with my family. She said I was becoming obsessed with protecting something that was already destroying me.”
“And you disagreed?”
“I told her that the company was my responsibility.”
He looked at Emily.
“She told me that a company could survive without me, but a family could not.”
Emily swallowed.
“That sounds like something Mom would say.”
Arthur smiled sadly.
“She was always wiser than I was.”
He continued.
“Then Richard began telling me that Margaret was trying to influence my decisions. He said she wanted access to the company accounts. He showed me documents that suggested she had been speaking to outside investors.”
“Were they real?”
Arthur shook his head.
“I don't know. I never investigated them properly. I was angry, and I was grieving. I said things I should never have said.”
“What things?”
Arthur closed his eyes.
“I told her that if she believed I was incapable of running my own company, she should stop calling herself my daughter.”
Emily looked away.
“That must have hurt her.”
“It did.”
Arthur's voice became almost inaudible.
“And it has hurt me every day since.”
Emily reached across the small table and held his hand.
“You can't change what happened.”
“No.”
“But you can tell me the truth now.”
Arthur nodded.
“That is what I intend to do.”
Shortly before landing, Daniel returned to the lounge.
He looked exhausted.
“Mr. Bennett, we have a problem.”
Arthur put down his newspaper.
“Another one?”
“Richard knows you're on the aircraft.”
Arthur did not look surprised.
“How?”
“He called the flight crew.”
“And what did he say?”
Daniel hesitated.
“He wants you taken directly to the executive terminal. He says the meeting is canceled.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
“Convenient timing.”
“He also instructed security not to allow you into the main building.”
Arthur slowly stood.
“Then I suppose we should go somewhere else.”
Daniel looked confused.
“Where?”
Arthur smiled.
“Wherever the people who still remember the truth are willing to meet us.”
Emily closed her laptop.
“I'll come with you.”
Arthur looked at her.
“You don't have to.”
“I know.”
She stood beside him.
“But I want to.”
Arthur looked at his granddaughter for a long moment.
Then he nodded.
“Your mother would have been proud of you.”
Emily smiled through her tears.
“I hope so.”
The aircraft landed at 1:42 p.m.
A black sedan was waiting near the private terminal.
Daniel had arranged transportation, but Arthur refused to get into the vehicle until he had spoken with the captain.
He thanked the crew for their patience and apologized for the delay.