Chapter 55
Evelyn read that passage twice.
Six point four billion dollars.
She'd worked at Ashford Group for three years. Ashford Group's annual revenue was $1.1 billion.
Evelyn closed the article and kept scrolling.
The second result was an annual directory from a Southeast Asian business association. Brian's name appeared on the second page, title listed as "BW Fund Founder and Chairman."
Next to the directory entry was a small box where a photo should be.
Empty.
A small line of text read: Not provided by subject.
Evelyn exited the search page.
No photos. No interviews. No social media footprint.
A man managing over six billion dollars in assets barely existed on the internet.
Evelyn leaned back in her chair, hands resting on either side of the keyboard, staring at the screen for ten seconds.
She opened her conversation with Cedric.
[Nason says Benjamin is the White family's eldest legitimate son, not a collateral branch. Your earlier information was wrong. He goes by Brian now. Singapore. Founder of BW Fund. Estimated value $6.4 billion.]
She sent the message.
Cedric's reply came two minutes later.
[I've updated my end. The collateral branch info came from the White family's publicly released genealogy. Benjamin's name was moved to the collateral branch column in that record. But what Nason said about him being the eldest legitimate son is the real identity. The White family disowned him back then. It had to do with the Ashford family breaking up Lily and him. He was forced to leave the White family, changed his name, and started over.]
Evelyn's finger pressed against the edge of the screen.
Disowned by his family.
Just like her mother.
One cast out by the Hawk family, one disowned by the White family. Both abandoned by their families, then separated.
Her mother raised her alone in a rental apartment and died alone in that same rental apartment.
He built a $6.4 billion empire in Singapore.
Evelyn's throat moved.
She didn't type anything. She set the phone on the desk and exited the conversation.
A message from Sophie popped up next.
[Eve, I've been looking into Brian too. His reputation in Southeast Asian circles is polarized. Ruthless in business, but huge on charity. He donates over thirty million Singapore dollars annually to the Southeast Asian Chinese education foundation. One detail—he has a private foundation under his name. It's called the "Lily Education Fund."]
When Evelyn saw "Lily," her breathing stopped for a beat.
Lily.
Her mother's name.
A man with no photos online, who never gave interviews, who'd erased all public traces of himself, had named his charitable foundation after her mother.
Evelyn's fingers curled against the phone screen.
She sent Sophie a reply.
[Does he know my mom died?]
Sophie's response paused for eight seconds.
[Not sure. But the foundation was registered fourteen years ago. Your mom passed seven years ago. Meaning when the foundation was registered, your mom was still alive.]
Evelyn set the phone down.
Registered fourteen years ago. Her mother was still alive then.
He'd built a foundation using her name, but he never came back to find her.
Why?
Evelyn turned the question over in her mind. No answer.
She stood, went to the break room and filled a glass of water, drank it standing by the window. The coolness traveling from her throat to her stomach cleared her thoughts a little.
She returned to her desk, opened her phone, and sent Cedric another message.
[Brian has a charitable foundation called the "Lily Education Fund." Registered fourteen years ago. He knew my mom.]
Cedric's reply came faster this time.
[I know. I got that lead yesterday. Didn't tell you right away because I was waiting on confirmation of another piece of information.]
Evelyn's brow furrowed.
[What information?]
Cedric didn't reply immediately.
Twenty seconds later, he sent one line.
[The decision is always yours. But the information can't be cut off.]
Evelyn stared at that sentence for five seconds without pressing further.
She locked her phone, opened her computer, and started processing preliminary materials for the North District old city renovation project. After typing three lines, her fingers stopped.
She closed the document.
She pulled the photograph from the inner pocket of her bag.
The high-resolution restored photo.
Her mother in a white dress, smiling with crinkled eyes.
The man beside her with his right hand resting on her shoulder, a faint curve at the corner of his mouth.
Benjamin. Brian.
Evelyn laid the photo face-up and placed it side by side with the half photo saved on her phone on the desk.
The two photos pieced together made a complete image.
A young couple standing beneath a ginkgo tree. The woman in a white dress, the man in a navy jacket. Their shoulders touching, shadows overlapping in the sunlight.
This was the first time she'd seen her father and mother standing side by side in full.
Evelyn's fingertip pressed at the seam where the two photos met.
The edge where scissors had once cut through had yellowed and grown brittle.
Office lights reflected off the photo's surface in a thin glaze.
Evelyn sat at the desk for a long time.
---
Eight in the evening.
Evelyn returned to the guest room at Sophie's place.
She set her bag on the bed, took out the photo, and sat with her back against the headboard for a while.
Sophie was watching TV in the living room, volume turned low.
Evelyn placed the photo on the nightstand and went to take a shower.
When she came out, her hair wasn't completely dry yet. Water droplets ran from the ends down onto the shoulders of her pajamas, bleeding into small round spots.
She picked up the hair dryer and stood in front of the mirror.
In the mirror, her face was slightly flushed from the hot water.
She glanced down at her eyebrows.
Thick brows. Nearly identical in shape to the man in the photo.
She raised her hand and touched the bridge of her nose.
Higher than her mother's.
Hot air from the dryer blew past her ear with a low hum.
Evelyn turned off the dryer.
The TV in the living room went silent.
Sophie's footsteps came down the hallway and stopped at the guest room door.
"Done drying your hair?"
"Yeah."
"There's a bowl of soup left. I heated it up."
"Not hungry."
Sophie didn't leave.
"You're thinking about whether or not to acknowledge him."
Evelyn wrapped the dryer cord twice around itself and put it back in the cabinet.
She didn't answer.
Sophie leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest.
"What are you afraid of?"
Evelyn turned around and looked at Sophie.
"I'm not afraid."
"Then what are you hesitating about?"
Evelyn was silent for a few seconds.
"He has $6.4 billion. He has a foundation named after my mom. But he hasn't come back in twenty-seven years. My mom's been dead for seven years. He didn't show up at her funeral."
Sophie's arms dropped from her chest.
"Maybe he didn't know."
"Maybe." Evelyn's voice was flat. "But I don't want to fill a twenty-seven-year hole with 'maybe.'"
Sophie looked at her for three seconds.
"So what do you want to do?"
"Wait."
"Wait for what?"