Chapter 5 - THE CHURCH IN MONTREAL
They found Gabriel Sloan through a church basement.
Not a police database.
Not a Baron ledger.
A food pantry.
St. Matthew’s parish in Montreal still kept handwritten volunteer cards because the priest distrusted computers and believed bureaucracy should never be harder than hunger.
Lieutenant Chen called Canadian authorities.
Elias’s lawyer handled cross-border coordination.
Nobody drove north with guns.
That disappointed Bruno more than he admitted.
Adeline noticed.
“You wanted the dramatic version.”
Bruno looked offended.
“I wanted competent transportation.”
“You brought three cars.”
“Competent.”
Elias almost smiled.
They did not take Jonah.
That decision belonged to Adeline.
She explained enough.
Not everything.
Jonah sat on the edge of his bed with arms folded while Adeline told him their father had another son.
He had stared.
Then asked:
“Is he weird?”
Adeline blinked.
“What?”
“Half-brother. Is he weird?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does he know me?”
“Yes.”
“Then weird.”
Fair.
Elias stood near apartment door because Adeline had allowed him inside this time.
That mattered.
Jonah looked at him.
“You’re the guy who followed my sister.”
“Yes.”
“That is creepy.”
“Yes.”
Adeline stared.
Elias continued:
“I had a reason.”
Jonah raised eyebrow.
“That is what creepy people say.”
Bruno turned away.
Elias considered leaving everyone unemployed.
Then Jonah smiled faintly.
“Okay.”
He looked at Adeline.
“You’re going to Montreal.”
“Yes.”
“Because Delphine.”
“Yes.”
“And Gabriel.”
“Yes.”
“And maybe kidney.”
Adeline sat beside him.
“That is not why.”
“It is partly why.”
“No.”
Jonah looked at her.
“Addie.”
She closed eyes.
At sixteen, he had apparently learned how to say her name in tone their father once used.
Adeline continued.
“We are not going to find a person and ask him for a body part.”
Jonah grimaced.
“Good. That would be awkward.”
“We are going because Dad trusted him and he may know Delphine.”
“And if he wants to talk about donor testing?”
“Then we talk.”
“No promises.”
“No.”
“No guilt.”
“No.”
Jonah nodded.
“Good.”
Elias watched.
Choice.
Again.
It seemed simple when other people said it.
Harder when power made choice easier to ignore.
They left Jonah with Mrs. Moreno and a city social worker Chen trusted, plus medical transport backup Adeline approved.
Elias offered nothing beyond what she asked.
That was perhaps the most difficult thing he did all week.
St. Matthew’s stood on a narrow Montreal street between a bakery and a closed bookshop.
Snow rested along stone steps.
Inside smelled of wax and coffee.
Father Luc Moreau was seventy, suspicious, and completely unimpressed by Elias Baron.
That alone made Elias like him.
“No weapons in chapel.”
Bruno looked at Elias.
Elias nodded.
They left them locked in car.
Adeline had none.
Father Luc led them downstairs.
Food pantry shelves.
Coats.
Boxes.
A bulletin board.
He looked at photograph of Gabriel Sloan.
“Yes.”
Adeline stopped breathing.
“You know him.”
“Gabe.”
“When was he here?”
“Off and on. Years.”
“Where is he now?”
Father Luc studied her.
“Who are you?”
“Adeline Hayes.”
His face changed.
“Oh.”
That one sound held history.
“You knew my father.”
“Yes.”
“You knew me.”
“By name.”
“Jonah?”
“Yes.”
Her jaw tightened.
“Everyone did.”
Father Luc did not defend.
“No.”
Good.
“Why did no one tell us Gabriel existed?”
“Thomas asked.”
“Why?”
“I think you need Gabriel for that.”
“Do you know where he is?”
Father Luc looked at Elias.
“You are brother.”
“Yes.”
“Delphine’s.”
“Yes.”
“Are you here to take her?”
Elias’s body tightened.
“She is here.”
Not question.
Father Luc did not answer.
Adeline looked at him.
“Please.”
The priest closed eyes.
“Delphine is alive.”
Elias forgot how to breathe.
He had already known.
Maybe.
Hope never becomes real until another person says it.
“Where?”
“She is not a prisoner.”
“I did not ask that.”
“No.”
Father Luc looked at him.
“I say it because powerful men often hear location as permission.”
Elias felt the hit.
Accepted.
“Then ask her.”
The priest’s expression shifted.
That answer mattered.
“I can contact her.”
“Now.”
“Strong preference?”
Adeline glanced at Elias.
He almost smiled despite himself.
“Yes. Strong preference.”
Father Luc took an old phone from drawer.
Called one number.
Spoke French.
Then English.
“She says no.”
Elias felt the room tilt.
“No?”
“She will not see you.”
Adeline said:
“Will she see me?”
Father Luc asked.
Pause.
His face softened.
“Yes.”
Elias looked at Adeline.
She looked back.
“You stay.”
He wanted to argue.
Every nerve.
Instead:
“Yes.”
Bruno nearly smiled.
Adeline followed priest upstairs.
Elias remained in basement.
Twenty minutes.
Thirty.
He counted canned beans.
Seventy-three.
Hated himself.
At forty-one minutes, Father Luc returned alone.
“She will speak to you.”
Elias stood.
“Where?”
“Garden.”
Behind church, a small courtyard held bare trees and one wooden bench.
A girl sat beneath gray sky.
Fifteen.
Dark coat.
Hair longer.
Face thinner.
Delphine.
Elias stopped at doorway.
She looked up.
Three years collapsed.
He could not move.
Neither could she.
Then Delphine stood.
“Hi.”
His throat closed.
“Hi.”
That was all.
Not embrace.
Not running.
Not cinema.
Two people unsure what grief allowed after resurrection.
Elias stepped into snow.
Stopped six feet away.
“You’re tall.”
She almost smiled.
“You got old.”
He laughed once.
Then cried.
He hated it.
Did not stop.
Delphine’s eyes filled.
She crossed distance.
Slowly.
Elias did not touch until she did.
Then his sister wrapped arms around him.
He held her.
Carefully.
Not like possession.
Like proof.
Adeline stood near chapel door.
Watching.
Crying too.
Delphine whispered into Elias’s coat:
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
“I left.”
“You were twelve.”
“I chose later.”
“No.”
He pulled back.
“You were twelve.”
Delphine stared.
He remembered her letter.
Children believe adults because they have no other choice.
“You do not apologize for surviving.”
Her face broke.
She hugged him again.
Later, inside parish office, Delphine told story.
Thomas switched cars with Gabriel at service station.
Delphine climbed into Gabriel’s car under blanket.
Thomas took her coat and bag.
Drove toward harbor.
“Did he know?”
Adeline asked.
Delphine looked at her.
“Yes.”
Adeline’s face tightened.
“He told me your names.”
“Mine and Jonah.”
“Yes.”
“Gabriel?”
Delphine nodded.
“He said Gabe was his first son.”
Adeline closed eyes.
“Why secret?”
“Thomas said your mother did not know and he was ashamed.”
Not protection.
Shame again.
“He had Gabriel when he was eighteen,” Delphine continued. “Different relationship. He left. Then later tried to reconnect.”
Adeline asked:
“Did Gabriel forgive him?”
“Sometimes.”
Honest.
“Where is he?”
Delphine looked at Father Luc.
Then Elias.
“Working.”
“What kind?”
“Security.”
“Where?”
“Québec.”
“Can we see him?”
“He knows you’re here.”
Adeline’s face hardened.
“And?”
“He is scared.”
“Of me?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“Jonah.”
Adeline frowned.
“That makes no sense.”
Delphine said:
“He promised Thomas he would donate if Jonah ever needed kidney.”
Silence.
“He got tested.”
“Yes.”
“Then why scared?”
“Because his own kidney function changed last year.”
Adeline went still.
“He may not be eligible.”
There.
Not miracle.
Not easy rescue.
“He thinks if he sees you, he has to tell you he cannot keep promise.”
Adeline sat back.
“That is stupid.”
Delphine almost smiled.
“He is related to you.”
Fair.
“What happened after Montreal?” Elias asked.
Delphine’s face changed.
“Gabriel brought me here.”
“Then?”
“Grandmother sent money.”
Elias looked away.
“She never came.”
“No.”
“Did you want her?”
“At first.”
“What about me?”
Delphine did not answer.
Pain.
Good.
Truth.
“Ror sent messages,” she said.
Elias went cold.
“What messages?”
“From you.”
“No.”
“I know now.”
His hands tightened.
“What did they say?”
“That Thomas died because of me.”
Adeline flinched.
“That you knew I was alive.”
Elias stopped.
“And?”
“That you wanted me kept away until things settled.”
His chest hollowed.
“No.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Gabriel checked later. The account was fake.”
“How long did you believe?”
“A year.”
Elias looked down.
A year.
His sister alive, thinking he chose not to find her.
Then she said:
“There was another.”
“What?”
“One message said if I came home, you would make me testify and then send me away to school.”
Elias almost laughed from pain.
“I hated boarding school.”
“I know.”
“Then why believe?”
“Because you sent me one when I was nine.”
“For six weeks.”
“It felt like prison.”
Fair.
Adeline asked:
“Why leave St. Matthew’s eighteen months ago?”
Delphine looked toward window.
“Someone came asking about me.”
“Who?”
“Victor.”
Elias went cold.
His uncle.
“He was alive then.”
“Yes.”
“Did he see you?”
“No.”
“Gabriel moved me.”
“Where?”
“Québec City.”
“Why not contact police?”
Delphine looked at him.
“I thought police helped fake my death.”
Elias stopped.
She had reason.
“Then Victor died.”
“Yes.”
“Why not come home?”
She looked at Elias.
“Because by then I didn’t know who home was.”
That sentence entered him.
No defense.
Delphine continued.
“I started school here. Friends. People know me as Della Sloan.”
“Sloan.”
“Gabriel’s name.”
“Do you want Baron back?”
She looked at him.
“I don’t know.”
“Okay.”
Her eyes widened.
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“What if I never do?”
His chest tightened.
“Then don’t.”
Adeline watched.
Something softened.
Then Delphine reached into bag.
“I have something.”
A key.
Old brass.
Thomas had given it before switching cars.
“What does it open?”
“He said if anything happened, Gabriel would know.”
“Does he?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Delphine looked at Adeline.
“Chelsea.”
The old boxing gym.
Of course.
“He told me not to use it unless Ror was caught.”
Ror had been caught.
Delphine placed key in Adeline’s palm.
“This belongs to your family.”
Adeline stared.
“My family seems to own a lot of secrets.”
Delphine nodded.
“So does mine.”
Then church front bell rang.
Father Luc left.
Returned two minutes later.
His face serious.
“Gabriel is here.”
Adeline stopped breathing.
A man stood in church entry.
Forty-six.
Dark hair gone gray at temples.
Scar behind left ear.
The scar Adeline said her father had, not him.
But his face—
Thomas around eyes.
Adeline’s mouth opened.
Gabriel Sloan looked at her.
“Addie.”
She stood.
“You don’t get to call me that.”
His face broke.
“Fair.”
She crossed church.
Stopped.
He looked at her like someone who had spent thirty years imagining a sister who never knew he existed.
“I’m sorry.”
Adeline stared.
“For which thing?”
“Start wherever you want.”
She slapped him.
Apparently reunions had rules.
Gabriel took it.
Then Adeline hugged him.
Hard.
Elias looked away.
Delphine smiled through tears.
Father Luc muttered:
“This parish needs better insurance.”
For the first time in three years, Elias laughed without feeling guilty.
Then Gabriel looked over Adeline’s shoulder at him.
His expression changed.
“Elias Baron.”
“Yes.”
“Thomas liked you.”
Elias stopped.
“He barely knew me.”
“He knew enough.”
“Why?”
Gabriel looked toward Delphine.
“Because you broke one of your father’s rules for him once.”
Elias frowned.
“What?”
“When Jonah was born premature, Thomas missed three shifts.”
Elias remembered vaguely.
Driver emergency.
His father wanted termination.
Elias had overridden.
Hospitals.
The rule.
“He told Thomas no one gets punished for being at a hospital.”
Adeline stared.
Elias had forgotten.
Thomas had not.
Gabriel continued:
“That is why Thomas trusted Delphine might be safe with you eventually.”
The word eventually hurt.
Then Gabriel’s expression hardened.
“But he also left proof that Ror was not working only with Victor.”
Elias’s pulse changed.
“Who else?”
Gabriel held up matching brass key.
“Come to Chelsea.”
The old boxing gym waited six hours south.
“And bring police.”
May you like
Elias almost smiled.
Everyone had learned something.
