On a rainy evening, Daniel brought an unknown man named Michael to our apartment. He claimed that he should meet with a friend, but his nervous behavior immediately showed me that he was hiding something.
When I finally confronted him with this, Daniel was silent for a few moments.
“I was going to tell you,” he murmured.
“What exactly?”
He looked toward the bedroom door, as if checking to see if Michael could hear us.
“I didn’t meet with a friend tonight. I’ve known who Michael is for three weeks now.
“Who is he?”
Daniel swallowed hard.
“My uncle.”
The Man He Thought Was Dead
Over the years, Daniel has told me many stories about his family. His father, Robert, had passed away eight years earlier, while his mother had died before we met. However, he never mentioned an uncle named Michael.
“Your father had a brother?”
“Da.”
“Then why didn’t you ever tell me about him?”
“Until three weeks ago, I thought he was dead.”
Michael was Robert’s younger brother. When Daniel was a child, he often stayed at their house. He also knew our apartment well, because it used to belong to Daniel’s grandparents.
