Chapter 6 - Behind the Third Shelf
The workshop smelled of sawdust and lemon oil, exactly as Ricardo remembered. Dust lay thick on the benches, but the cabinet nearest the office had fresh scratches around its lock.
Leah insisted on coming. So did Ricardo's younger sister, Elena, a hospice nurse whom Celeste had described for years as selfish and unreliable. Elena stood in the doorway with her hands clenched.
"I called Dad every Sunday," she said. "Three weeks ago Celeste told me he'd changed his number. Then she said he didn't want to see me."
Ricardo couldn't meet her eyes. "She told me you two had fought."
"We haven't fought since we were kids."
They moved the third shelf together. Behind it was a loose wooden panel, worn smooth by Arturo's hands. Ricardo lifted it and found a metal box containing photographs, lease agreements, and a letter from his mother, Isabel.
Her handwriting made his throat tighten. She had written that the workshop should remain a place where people could work, live, and begin again. Attached was a recorded affordability agreement on the apartments, running for another thirteen years.
"A buyer couldn't just tear them down," Leah said. "Not lawfully without resolving that restriction."
Underneath lay a recent letter from Hawthorne Redevelopment. It asked Arturo to sign an affidavit falsely stating that the apartments had been vacant for years.
"Someone knew this was here," Elena said, noticing an empty outline in the dust.
Ricardo opened the bottom of the box. A smaller envelope had been slit and put back without its contents. On its front, Arturo had written in unsteady pencil: IF THEY SAY I'M CONFUSED, GIVE THIS TO RICKY.
May you like
His father's warning was still there.
Whatever it had contained was gone.
