Chapter 3: The Man Who Knew What Happened That Night
I hadn't heard Darius's name in almost six years.
The last time I saw him, he stood outside a church wearing a black suit that was too big for his shoulders.
He was twenty-one then, thin, restless, and unable to look anyone in the eye.
Andre had been the person who kept him out of trouble.
Without his older brother, Darius seemed to drift through life with no direction.
At the funeral, he approached me while I stood beside my mother.
"Danielle," he said.
I turned.
"Hey, Darius.""
He looked at the ground.
"I'm sorry.""
I nodded.
He rubbed his hands together.
"Andre talked about you all the time.""
My throat tightened.
"Thank you.""
He looked like he wanted to say something else.
Then someone called his name.
He walked away.
I never saw him again.
Until that message appeared on Marcus's phone.
"How did he get your number?"" I asked.
Marcus shook his head.
"I don't know.""
"Did you give it to him?""
"No.""
"Then why is he texting you?""
Marcus looked at the screen again.
"He says he knows about our baby.""
I reached for the phone.
Marcus handed it to me.
The number wasn't saved in his contacts.
There was no profile picture.
Just a local number and the message.
"Call him," I whispered.
Marcus looked at me.
"Now?""
"Yes.""
He pressed the number.
It rang twice.
A man's voice answered.
"Hello?""
Marcus straightened.
"Is this Darius?""
"Who wants to know?""
"My name is Marcus. I'm Danielle's husband.""
There was a pause.
Then the voice became quieter.
"Oh.""
Marcus glanced at me.
"You sent me a message.""
"I did.""
"What do you want?""
"I need to speak to Danielle.""
Marcus tightened his grip on the phone.
"She's right here.""
I leaned forward.
"Darius?""
Silence.
Then he said my name.
"Danielle.""
My eyes filled immediately.
"Where have you been?""
He exhaled.
"That's a long story.""
"It's been eight years.""
"I know.""
"You disappeared after the funeral.""
"I know.""
"You didn't call. You didn't visit. You didn't even send a message when my mother told you I got married.""
"I know, Danielle.""
His voice cracked.
For a moment, I was twenty-six again, standing in a cemetery with wet shoes and a black dress.
I remembered looking for him among the mourners.
I remembered wondering whether he was hurting as badly as I was.
I remembered going home and realizing that the only person who could tell me what had happened to Andre was gone.
"Why are you calling now?"" I asked.
Darius took a breath.
"Because I saw the announcement.""
"What announcement?""
"Your baby.""
I looked at Marcus.
Darius continued.
"I saw the picture your mother posted. She said his name was Andre.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"And?""
"And I knew you finally did it.""
"Did what?""
"Named your son after my brother.""
Marcus stepped closer.
"Listen, Darius. Whatever happened between you and your brother has nothing to do with my family.""
Darius went quiet.
Then he said something that made my stomach drop.
"Actually, Marcus, it has everything to do with your family.""
Marcus's expression hardened.
"Explain.""
"Not over the phone.""
"Then why call?""
"Because I need Danielle to know I'm not trying to hurt her.""
I closed my eyes.
"You're already hurting me.""
Darius was silent.
Then he said, "I was there that night.""
I stopped breathing.
Marcus looked at me.
"What?""
Darius continued.
"I was outside the store when Andre got shot.""
My knees felt weak.
I grabbed the edge of the table.
"Why didn't you tell the police?""
"I did.""
"Then why didn't you tell me?""
"Because I was scared.""
"Of what?""
He hesitated.
"Of what Andre had been doing before he died.""
Marcus moved closer to the table.
"What was he doing?""
Darius exhaled.
"I'll explain everything in person.""
Marcus shook his head.
"No. You're going to explain something right now.""
"Marcus, please," I whispered.
Darius spoke again.
"Danielle, I have something that belongs to you.""
"What?""
"Something Andre gave me three days before he died.""
My mouth went dry.
"What is it?""
"A key.""
I looked at the old letter.
"To what?""
"I don't know exactly. But Andre told me that if anything happened to him, I was supposed to give it to you.""
My mother had been right.
There had been something else.
Something I had never known existed.
"Why are you only telling me now?"" I asked.
Darius's voice broke.
"Because I found out where the key goes.""
Darius agreed to meet us the following afternoon at a small coffee shop near the old neighborhood where Andre had grown up.
I didn't want to go.
Not because I was afraid of Darius.
Because I was afraid of what I might learn.
Marcus insisted on coming.
He didn't say it was because he wanted to protect me, but I knew him well enough to understand.
He didn't trust the situation.
He also didn't trust me to face anything involving Andre without him.
Before we left, he stood in the nursery watching our son sleep.
The sunlight fell across the white crib.
Andre's tiny chest rose and fell beneath his blanket.
Marcus rested one hand on the crib rail.
"You know something?"" he said.
I stood in the doorway.
"What?""
"I used to come in here every night just to look at him.""
I smiled faintly.
"You still do.""
"Yeah.""
He looked down.
"But now I hear his name differently.""
My smile disappeared.
"I'm sorry.""
Marcus shook his head.
"Stop saying that unless you're going to tell me something I don't know.""
I walked into the nursery.
He continued looking at the baby.
"I don't want our son growing up feeling like he's somebody's replacement.""
"He isn't.""
"Then we need to make sure he knows that.""
I nodded.
Marcus finally turned toward me.
"Whatever Darius tells us, I want the truth. All of it.""
"I understand.""
He looked at the baby again.
"And Danielle?""
"Yes?""
"Don't protect Andre anymore.""
I swallowed.
"I'm not.""
"Then stop deciding which parts of him I'm allowed to know.""
Darius was already waiting when we arrived.
He sat in the corner of the coffee shop wearing a dark jacket and a baseball cap. He looked older than I remembered, with a fuller beard and deep lines around his eyes.
He stood when he saw us.
"Hey, Danielle.""
I stopped a few feet away.
"Hey.""
His eyes moved toward Marcus.
"You're Marcus?""
"That's me.""
They shook hands.
It was brief and uncomfortable.
We sat down.
Darius placed a small paper bag on the table.
"I wasn't sure if you'd come.""
I looked at him.
"Why wouldn't I?""
"Because I haven't exactly been a good person to you.""
I didn't answer.
He pushed the paper bag toward me.
"That's what I wanted to give you.""
I opened it.
Inside was a small brass key attached to a faded red plastic tag.
My heart began beating faster.
I recognized the key.
Andre used to keep one just like it on his key ring.
"What does this open?""
Darius rubbed his palms together.
"Storage unit.""
I looked up.
"Where?""
"On Jefferson Street. The place Andre used to rent before he moved back in with our mother.""
I remembered that storage unit.
Andre had used it to keep his music equipment, old photographs, and boxes of things he didn't want his mother throwing away.
"Why didn't you give this to me eight years ago?""
Darius looked down.
"Because I wasn't ready.""
"Ready for what?""
"To tell you what happened.""
Marcus leaned forward.
"Start talking.""
Darius looked at him.
Then at me.
"Andre wasn't supposed to be at that store that night.""
My stomach tightened.
"What do you mean?""
"He was meeting someone.""
"Who?""
Darius shook his head.
"I don't know his real name.""
Marcus frowned.
"How do you not know?""
"Because Andre never told me. He just said the man had information about the people who were threatening me.""
I stared at him.
"Threatening you?""
Darius nodded.
"I owed money. More than I could pay.""
"How much?""
"Almost twelve thousand dollars.""
Marcus leaned back.
"And Andre was helping you?""
"He was trying to.""
I looked at Darius.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because Andre made me promise not to.""
"That's not an answer.""
Darius rubbed his forehead.
"He thought if you knew, you'd try to get involved. He didn't want you anywhere near those people.""
I looked down at the key.
"Was that why he wrote the letter?""
Darius nodded.
"Probably.""
I swallowed.
"Did he know he was in danger?""
Darius looked toward the window.
"He knew something was wrong.""
"Then why did he go?""
"Because he thought he could fix it.""
Marcus shook his head.
"That's not enough.""
Darius looked at him.
"What do you want me to say?""
"I want to know why a man who supposedly loved his family put himself in a dangerous situation and left everybody else to deal with the consequences.""
Darius's face tightened.
"He didn't have a choice.""
"There's always a choice.""
"Not when somebody tells you they'll come after your little brother.""
The words hung between us.
I looked at Darius.
"Did Andre get killed because of you?""
His eyes filled.
He looked down at the table.
"I've asked myself that question every day for eight years.""
I felt a strange pressure in my chest.
"Darius.""
He wiped his face.
"I was supposed to meet him that night. He told me to stay home. I didn't listen.""
Marcus sat very still.
Darius continued.
"I followed him. I saw him talking to a man near the parking lot. Then another car pulled up.""
He paused.
"I heard two shots.""
I covered my mouth.
Darius stared at the table.
"When I ran over, Andre was on the ground. The man was gone.""
My eyes filled with tears.
"Did he say anything?""
Darius nodded.
"What?""
"He kept asking for you.""
I looked away.
Marcus reached for my hand.
I let him take it.
Darius continued.
"He told me to call you. But I was scared. I thought the people who were after me would come after you too.""
I stared at him.
"So you never called.""
"I called the ambulance. Then I ran.""
"You left him?""
Darius began crying.
"I was twenty-one, Danielle. I was terrified. I didn't know what to do.""
"You left your brother.""
"I know.""
His voice cracked.
"I know what I did.""
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then Marcus asked the question I hadn't thought to ask.
"What happened to the people who were threatening you?""
Darius looked up.
"They disappeared.""
"Disappeared how?""
"I don't know. The police questioned me, but I never told them everything. I moved away.
Changed jobs. Tried to start over.""
Marcus's expression darkened.
"And now you're back because of a key?""
Darius shook his head.
"No.""
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
"This is why I'm back.""
He placed it on the table.
I unfolded it.
It was a photograph.
Not the old photograph from my nightstand.
This one showed Andre standing outside the storage facility, holding a cardboard box.
On the back, in his handwriting, were five words.
For Danielle, when the time comes.
My hands began trembling.
Marcus leaned closer.
"What is it?""
Darius looked at me.
"I found this inside the storage unit last week. I went there because I was finally ready to clear out his things.""
I stared at the photograph.
"What's inside?""
"Boxes. His old equipment. Some clothes. A few notebooks.""
"That's all?""
Darius shook his head.
"No.""
He looked directly at me.
"There's another envelope. It's addressed to you.""
My heart pounded.
"What does it say?""
Darius swallowed.
"I didn't open it.""
"Why not?""
"Because Andre told me it was yours.""
Marcus looked at him suspiciously.
"Then why didn't you bring it?""
Darius lowered his eyes.
"Because I read something else first.""
"What?""
He reached into his jacket again.
This time, he pulled out a photocopy of an old police report.
He slid it toward Marcus.
Marcus picked it up.
His eyes moved across the page.
Then his expression changed.
"What is this?""
Darius looked at me.
"Something the police never told you.""
I leaned forward.
The report contained the date of Andre's death, the location of the shooting, and the names of the people questioned afterward.
One name had been underlined in black ink.
I read it once.
Then again.
My fingers went numb.
Because the name wasn't Darius.
It wasn't Andre.
It was my father's.
I looked up.
"Why is my father in this report?""
Darius stared at me.
"Because your father was the last person Andre called before he died.""
The coffee shop seemed to disappear around me.
I could hear Marcus breathing beside me.
I could hear a cup being placed on a saucer somewhere behind us.
But all I could see was that name.
My father's name.
The same man who had told me for eight years that Andre's death was a tragedy nobody could have prevented.
I turned toward Marcus.
He was already looking at me.
"Danielle," he said quietly, "did your father ever tell you he knew Andre was in trouble?""
I shook my head.
Darius leaned forward.
"There's something else.""
I looked at him.
He hesitated before speaking.
"Your father didn't just know Andre was in trouble.""
He pushed the police report closer.
"He was supposed to meet him that night.""
May you like
And then Darius said the words that made me realize the photograph on my nightstand was only the beginning of a story my entire family had been hiding.
"Danielle, I think your father knows who killed Andre.""
