Chapter 5: My Dear Odessa

ODESSA

I didn’t say a word about Rexos Café.

“The coffee is good there,” I said, picking up my glass. “You should try it.”

The smile on Vivian’s face faltered. She expected a reaction, but I gave her an easy answer instead.

Adrian finally looked up from his phone. “Where?”

“A café. I was out running errands.”

He watched me briefly, then returned to his screen. Nobody said much after that, and the rest of dinner passed without much conversation.

Later that night, I lay in bed thinking about one thing. I told only one person where I was going that afternoon.

Mr. Bassey.

He had driven me for four years. Once, when I was going through a rough time, he sat with me in a quiet park until I stopped crying. He never brought it up again.

I didn’t want to believe he was the one who told Vivian.

Still, I wasn’t going to accuse him without knowing. I would find out myself.

The next afternoon, when Mr. Bassey opened the car door for me, I already knew what I wanted to do.

“Where to, ma’am?”

“The Halden Botanical Gardens, please. I want to take a walk.”

“Of course. Should I wait for you?”

“No. I might be there a few hours. I’ll get another ride home.”

He paused, and I caught his eyes in the rearview mirror before he turned his attention back to the road.

“Are you sure, ma’am?”

“Quite sure.”

He nodded and closed the door.

At the gardens, I sat beside the pond with a notebook on my lap for about ten minutes. Then I packed it away, walked through the far gate, and stopped a taxi.

The driver wore an orange scarf and hummed along with whatever was playing on the radio. I gave her the address I found on a listing the night before.

The place sat above a print shop on the east side, three flights of stairs up. An older woman met me at the door and introduced herself as Mrs. Delgado before unlocking it with a noisy bunch of keys.

“The last tenant was a photographer,” she said. “He complained about these stairs for two years and still never moved.”

I stepped inside.

It was one long room with bare floors, a tall window, and a sturdy drafting table near the wall. Daylight came through the window and fell across the floor.

“It’s small,” she said.

“It’s perfect.”

“You haven’t asked about the rent.”

“I’ll take it anyway.”

She gave me a dry little laugh. “You haven’t asked if the heating works.”

“I’ll take it anyway.”

That made her laugh again.

“Name?”

“Odessa Hart.”

I paid three months from the savings account I opened before I ever met Adrian. The Sterling lawyers never knew about it, and I planned to keep it that way.

It wasn’t much, but it was mine.

I counted the cash twice before handing it over, then walked back outside with the keys in my hand. For the first time in a long time, I was heading somewhere that belonged to me.

I made it home in time for dinner, still feeling lighter than I expected. I waited until the soup was served before bringing it up.

“I went to the Halden Botanical Gardens today. The roses are beautiful.”

Vivian looked at Eleanor. It lasted barely a second, but I caught it.

Eleanor raised her glass. “How lovely. I hope you enjoyed the gardens, Odessa. I hear the paths are very quiet.”

“They are.”

I smiled and went back to my soup. I still didn’t know who was passing information to Vivian, but I knew enough to stop giving anyone the chance.

The next morning, I called a taxi from my room without telling anyone where I was going. I spent the whole day at my drafting table, rebuilding the civic tower from memory.

The first few lines came slowly. My hand felt strange holding the pencil again, and I kept stopping to think about the next part. Then something clicked. My lines became faster, and soon I wasn’t trying to copy the old design anymore.

I was changing it.

Six years of sitting through Adrian’s meetings and reading his reports taught me more about buildings than I realized. I understood how the tower should carry its weight, how the wind would move around it, and how people would use the space below.

When I finally put the pencil down, graphite covered my fingers. I sat back and looked at the drawing.

It was still mine. I just saw it differently now.

That evening, I carried the long cardboard tube upstairs when I heard a voice behind me.

“Mom?”

I stopped and turned.

Callum stood in his doorway, his tie crooked and his hair sticking up at the back. He hadn’t called me that in two weeks.

“Yes?”

“Is that a building?”

“It’s a tower,” I said, lifting the tube a little. “I drew it years ago, then worked on it again today.”

“Why?”

“To make it better.”

He seemed to think about that. “Can you do that after it’s already done?”

“Sometimes. You just have to look at it differently.”

He shifted from one foot to the other. “I draw too. A little.”

“I know.” I smiled. “I saw your staircase. You’re really good at drawing.”

His cheeks turned pink, and he started to say something.

“Callum!” Vivian called from downstairs. Her voice was bright and sweet. “Come down, sweetheart. I have a surprise for you!”

His expression changed right away.

“I have to go.”

He disappeared into his room, and I stood there with the tube under my arm before heading downstairs.

That night, I went to the library and opened my book, but my mind kept going back to the question he asked me.

Adrian found me there, still dressed in his suit, his tie loose around his neck.

“Where do you go every day?”

“Out.”

He waited for more, but I gave him nothing else. For six years, I filled every quiet space between us with explanations and apologies. This time, I let the silence sit there.

“That isn’t an answer,” he said.

“It’s the one I have.”

His eyes moved over my face before dropping to the gray graphite on my thumb. He looked at it a second longer than he needed to.

“Goodnight, Odessa.”

He left without another question. I stayed in the library, reading until his footsteps disappeared upstairs.

Two days later, I was heading to the studio when an unknown number came through.

“Mrs. Sterling, this is Edmund Grayson. Could you come to my office this afternoon? I’d like to speak with you privately.”

Mr. Grayson was the Sterling family lawyer. He’d worked for the family for forty years.

“Can I ask what this is about?”

“It concerns something Mr. Henry Sterling left in my care.”

Adrian’s grandfather. He was the only Sterling who ever treated me like more than a wife chosen for a contract.

I arrived at his office at three. Mr. Grayson took an old envelope from his desk and handed it to me. Red wax sealed the back, and my name was written across the front in a shaky, slanted hand.

“I was told to give this to you only if another woman ever threatened your marriage,” he said. “The amendment came across my desk last week. I saw Miss Laurent’s name in the margin, so I knew it was time.”

I broke the seal with my thumbnail and unfolded the letter.

My dear Odessa,

If you are reading this, my grandson has been a fool, and I am sorrier than you will ever know.

Do not leave early. Do not sign anything he gives you. The last day matters more than anyone knows.

Forgive an old man for asking so much. You were always the best of us.

Henry

I read it again, slower this time.

“Mr. Grayson, what does he mean by the last day?”

“I don’t know. He never explained it to me. He only said he was afraid and that he trusted no one in that family except you.”

I folded the letter and placed it back inside the envelope.

“Does Adrian know about this?”

“No. Mr. Henry made that very clear.” He paused before adding, “There’s something else. Someone called my office last month, before the amendment was even drafted.”

“Who?”

“They wouldn’t give a name. They asked if the will contained any conditions tied to your marriage. They also wanted to know what would happen if your contract ended early.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That I couldn’t discuss private matters.” Mr. Grayson leaned back in his chair. “But they didn’t sound like they were looking for answers, Mrs. Sterling. They sounded like they were checking something they already knew.”

I slipped the letter into my bag.

Someone was asking about the last day before I even knew it mattered. Whoever it was, they were still waiting.