The Last of the Stanfields by Marc Levy

Author:Marc Levy [Levy, Marc]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781503959125
Google: 6LbftgEACAAJ
Amazon: 1503959120
Barnesnoble: 1503959120
Goodreads: 40049306
Publisher: AmazonCrossing
Published: 2019-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

24

MICHEL AND VERA

October 2016, Croydon

Vera opened the fridge door and peered inside. Everything was in its place: vegetables in the drawers, dairy on top, and a thin strip of netting covering the middle shelf. She sighed as she caught sight of her own reflection on the microwave door, and decided to let down her hair and take off her glasses. Stepping into the living room, she found Michel laying a tablecloth, his eyes glued to the TV, avoiding Vera’s.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, but received no response. She came closer, sitting on the armrest of a chair and letting out another sigh. “Michel. Why give just one letter and keep the rest?”

“To do my part. To help, without betraying Mum.”

“Fine. But why now?” she asked. “I know you had something specific in mind. You never leave anything to chance.”

“Ah, that is because I’ve never found substantial proof that chance really exists. I wanted to give my sister hope so she would continue her quest. I am quite certain Maggie would have tried to dissuade her. Despite Elby’s claims to the contrary, our younger sister exerts a special level of influence over her.”

“Wouldn’t it just have been simpler to tell her everything?”

“Perhaps, but that would not be a logical choice. Imagine I did find a way to get around my promise, which in and of itself would be by chance . . . if I could move forward for that one reason . . . Even so, anything I could tell her would be biased.”

“I don’t see why that would be the case,” Vera protested.

“When I’m doing research and I question the veracity of any of the facts, I seek out other sources to back them up. That way the story becomes my own, in a way. But if I hear the same story with a personal perspective that includes the intonations and feelings of the narrator, then the story becomes someone else’s interpretation, not my own. No matter how accurate that account may be, in such cases the story will never be my own. Elby must find her own truth and not simply have my truth handed to her. I want to give her every possible chance to discover it on her own. And this sort of thing takes time to accept. Letting my sister chart her own course to the truth increases the likelihood that she will achieve that level of acceptance.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“It’s not so easy, accepting that you’ve been lied to all your life.”

“But you’ve moved on and learned to forgive, haven’t you?”

“No. I have simply learned to accept. It’s not the same thing.”

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