One small section had clearly been opened before and then carefully sewn shut by hand.
His expression became serious.
Then he said something that made both Eric and me fall silent.
“Your father told me I would know when this moment arrived.”
He opened his briefcase and removed a small pair of scissors.
I felt my stomach tighten.
“What moment?” I asked.
Mr. Lawson positioned the scissors beneath one of the stitches.
Then he looked at Eric.
And suddenly, everything about the red suit felt different.
My brother hadn’t chosen it to attract attention.
Dad had left it there for him.
He had hidden it behind a bookcase.
Written Eric’s name on the garment bag.
And apparently placed something inside the jacket that even his attorney had been waiting to see.
Whatever Dad had prepared, it had been meant specifically for my brother.
And we were about to find out why.
The rest of the story is in the first comment.
My brother arrived at our father’s funeral wearing a bright red suit, and I was immediately upset. Every other man in the chapel wore black, charcoal, or dark gray. Then Eric walked in.
