Chapter 5 - The Seattle Sky
Two thousand miles away, the wheels of our flight touched down softly on the wet tarmac of Seattle-Tacoma International Airport.
Rain tapped gently against the airplane window. I turned on my phone as the jet taxied toward the gate. The device instantly vibrated continuously against my palm—dozens of text messages, missed calls, and urgent voicemails flooding the screen all at once.
I didn't look at them immediately. I turned back to look at my daughters.
Chloe was helping Maya unbuckle her seatbelt. Cami was retrieving our carry-on bags from the overhead bin with a quiet, focused efficiency. Sophia was holding her sister’s hand, giving her a reassuring smile.
Looking at the four of them, a swell of fierce, protective pride filled my chest. These were my girls. They were smart, resilient, and strong. They were not "failed attempts." They were everything.
We walked through the bustling terminal toward the baggage claim. Waiting near the glass doors was my older brother, Marcus, holding a cardboard sign that read WELCOME HOME, TEAM ELEANOR.
When the girls saw their uncle, their faces lit up for the first time in months. Maya dropped her stuffed bunny, ran across the shiny floor, and threw her arms around Marcus’s knees. Marcus picked her up effortlessly, swinging her around, before pulling Chloe, Cami, and Sophia into a massive group hug.
“Look at you girls,” Marcus said, his eyes glistening with tears as he looked at me over their heads. “You’ve grown a foot since I last saw you.”
“Uncle Marcus,” Cami said quietly. “Is it true we get our own rooms at your new house?”
“Every single one of you,” Marcus declared proudly. “Four bedrooms, a big backyard, and a dog who has been waiting all morning to meet you.”
As Marcus helped the girls collect our six heavy suitcases from the carousel, I finally pulled out my phone and stepped aside near a coffee kiosk to check the messages.
The first twenty missed calls were from Arthur.
The next ten were from Beatrice.
There was a long voicemail from Arthur Sr., along with a five-page text message from Carmen Alvarez detailing everything that had transpired on the terrace at the Lake Forest estate just two hours prior.
I read Carmen’s text twice, my eyes widening with every sentence.
Diego’s son. Mateo was Diego’s son all along.
I stood frozen in the middle of the crowded Seattle baggage claim, surrounded by the noise of traveler announcements and rolling luggage, feeling a surreal wave of emotional clarity wash over me.
Arthur had sacrificed sixteen years of marriage, humiliated his daughters, surrendered his dignity, and handed over forty-three percent of his company's operational control... all for a fraud concocted by his deadbeat brother and an opportunistic interior designer.
My phone began to ring again. Arthur’s face appeared on the screen.
I took a deep breath, slid the green button, and raised the phone to my ear.
“Eleanor!” Arthur’s voice came crashing through the speaker—frantic, breathless, weeping, completely unraveled. “Eleanor, oh God, Eleanor, please don't hang up! Please, I’m begging you, don't hang up!”
I kept my voice flat, icy, and completely devoid of emotion. “Hello, Arthur.”
“Eleanor, it was all a trap!” Arthur sobbed into the receiver. “Selina... Diego... they lied to me! Mateo isn't my son! He’s Diego’s! They faked the DNA tests, Eleanor! They were trying to steal the family money!”
I listened to him cry, listening to the desperate gasps of a man whose vanity had destroyed him.
“Why are you telling me this, Arthur?” I asked quietly.
“Because I made a mistake!” Arthur screamed over the phone, background noise suggesting he was driving frantically down a highway. “I was blind, Eleanor! My mother pushed me, and I was so stupid! Please, turn around! Bring the girls back to Chicago! We can fix this! We can be a family again!”
I took a slow step toward the glass doors, watching my four daughters laughing with their uncle near the luggage cart.
“Arthur,” I said softly.
“Yes? Yes, Eleanor, I’m listening!”
“When Chloe asked you outside the courthouse if you gave us up because you didn't want the fight or because you didn't want them... do you remember what you said?”
Silence fell on his end of the line, broken only by his ragged breathing.
May you like
“You said you had other responsibilities,” I reminded him, my voice completely firm. “Well, Arthur... now you have to live with them.”
I ended the call, blocked his number, and turned off the phone.
