Chapter 12: The Return of the Dress
Back at the apartment, the afternoon sunlight was fading into a deep, bruised gray as storm clouds gathered over the skyline. Clara and Helen returned shortly before three o'clock. Helen carried the garment bag with visible care, setting it gently on the hallway table.
Clara walked into the living room where Arthur sat staring blankly at the empty fireplace. She looked tired, but the raw anger of the previous night had settled into a quiet, fragile stillness. She sat down on the armchair opposite him, resting her hands in her lap.
"The specialty shop managed to get the grease out," Clara said, her voice even. "They used a specialized solvent. You can barely see the watermark if you don't look for it under direct light."
Arthur looked up, a faint wave of relief washing over him. "I'm glad. Are you still going to the gallery tonight?"
"The exhibition opened yesterday, Arthur. Tonight is just the closing reception and the donor dinner," Clara replied. "Helen is coming with me. We already arranged it."
Arthur nodded slowly. He didn't ask to go with them. He knew he wasn't invited, and he knew he didn't deserve to be. "I went to see Julian this morning," he said after a moment of silence. "He told me about the ledger. He was looking for proof that our grandfather was cheated out of some land grant thirty years ago."
Helen walked into the living room, holding a cup of tea. She sat on the sofa armrest, listening quietly without interrupting.
"And?" Clara asked, her dark eyes searching his face. "Did he find it?"
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"There was nothing there," Arthur said, shaking his head. "Just old tax forms and cancelled checks from a company that went under before we were even teenagers. He’s living in a fantasy, Clara. He’s spending his life fighting battles that were lost decades ago, and I’ve spent my life enabling him because I was afraid of what would happen if I let go."
Helen took a slow sip of her tea, her expression thoughtful. "It’s easier to fight a ghost than to face the present, Arthur. Your brother uses the past as an excuse to avoid growing up, and you use your brother as an excuse to avoid looking at your own life."
