Detective Jimenez glances up at her. “And Gabriel?”

“We talked sometimes. I helped him with his calculus homework. He was this brilliant kid, a senior in high school but already trying to map out his future. Rivi considered herself his sole caretaker, but he was past the age when he needed one. We didn’t really see each other from then until eight years later, when we were set up—”

“Sorry,” Detective Jimenez says, a tinge of mirth in his eyes. “I meant what was Gabriel’s relationship with his father?”

“Oh.” Penina flushes. “Uh. They were a little closer than Rivi and Mr. Cohen were. Gabe would sit and do his homework in the kitchen, and they’d talk about some pretty cerebral topics. I always got the sense that Mr. Cohen was well educated. It was surprising that he’d gone from that to these little odd jobs and handyman work, but not too strange. Grief changes people, right?”

Changes people, though not enough to change their DNA or entire identity. Detective Jimenez seems to be thinking the same. Penina tries again. “I’ve seen some old photo albums. Rivi had one during shivah. Her parents looked really happy together. Different. Everything must have changed when her mother died.”

“Could be.” Detective Jimenez gives her nothing. Then, abruptly, “You said that father and son talked cerebral topics. Did homework together. But you did Gabriel’s math with him?”

Penina nods. “Right.” She hadn’t imagined then that she’d ever date him, let alone get caught up together in an ill-fated engagement. Back then, he’d just been Rivi’s responsibility, and Penina had figured that she’d help out. “None of the Cohens were good at math. Rivi was the best, and she pretty much checked out after middle-school algebra.”

“I see.” Detective Jimenez writes this down, too. Penina blinks at him. How is that relevant?

She finds out soon after, when she emerges from the room and sees Rivi and Gabe waiting for her in the station.

“That was longer than I thought it would be,” Rivi says, her face tight. Gabe fidgets in his seat, and Penina feels a stab of guilt. This is the first time that they’ve seen each other since that fraught phone conversation, and they haven’t exchanged a word.

She’d been too harsh with him. He had apologized, which should have been enough, but she’d felt this compulsion to… to make him confront what he’d done, to understand how he’d wronged her. With some distance, she can admit that she’d felt a little spiteful, savagely certain that this would somehow make her feel better.

Now, she just feels bad.

She glances at Gabe and then returns to Rivi. “I didn’t have much to say, but he asked about the most random things. Like what homework I did with—”

“Gabriel?” Detective Jimenez says from behind her. Penina lets out an undignified squeak of surprise. Was it legal to talk about what they’d discussed? Did she sign a form that said she wouldn’t? But Detective Jimenez is smiling at her, amused at her alarm, before he turns to Gabe. “Could I speak with you again for a moment?”

Gabe stands, hands deep in his pockets, and he follows without another word.

Penina sinks down in his seat beside Rivi. “I wonder if they’re going to ask him about his math homework, too.”

“Math homework,” Rivi echoes. “That’s right. You used to do math homework with Gabe.” Her eyes narrow, and her face falls into that closed-off expression that she gets when her father comes up.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” Rivi’s jaw tightens. “Just… we were always told that we had the house and the mausoleum and whatever leftover money Abba had because of the old family business. An accounting firm. There were still business cards in the house and everything. But you’re right. Abba never had the head for math. Just another lie.”

She sits there, back rigid, and Penina feels a wave of sympathy for her. “This must be… this is a lot to take in.”

“It doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?” Rivi’s fingers are white-knuckled against her knees. “Abba is gone now anyway.”

“Has Ezra—” Penina begins, and Rivi turns to her, eyes flashing.

“Ezra is not finding out about this,” she says. “He has — we have enough on our plate right now.” She blinks rapidly, and Penina grasps just how terribly Rivi is coping with this. “I ruined his family’s anniversary retreat. The whole family is fighting now. The last thing Ezra needs right now is to hear more of my drama.”

“This isn’t—” Penina protests.

She means to say this isn’t drama, but Rivi hears something else entirely and cuts her off. “You’re right. This isn’t mine. This is all on Abba, as always. It has nothing to do with me.” She straightens. “I have bigger problems.”

Penina squints at her. “Do you?” Family squabbles are nothing new for Rivi’s in-laws, and she doesn’t blame Rivi; she’s spent enough time with Suri and Atara to completely understand how easily they set Rivi off. But a father with a false identity seems like a much bigger issue.

Rivi glowers at her. “Forgive me for caring more about the living than a dead man. I have spent my entire life trying to get out from under the neuroses of that man.” She says it like he’s her nemesis, a villain of her childhood instead of her father.

Maybe he had been, but Penina still remembers the way that Rivi had stood, frozen with grief and loss, at the funeral home after Mr. Cohen’s death. The way she’d sat during shivah, small and shaky with that photo album on her lap, as though she hadn’t yet let herself mourn.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever understand Rivi’s relationship with her father.

Gabe comes out of the room and joins them in the waiting area, his face troubled. “Detective Jimenez had more questions. I think… it sounds like he thinks that this all started after Bubby moved into the nursing home. About thirty years ago. Rivi would have been four, and I was only one.”

“Right,” Penina remembers, forgetting the tension between them in favor of the deepening mystery. “You knew your grandmother.”

“She passed away when I was six,” Gabe says. “But she had dementia for years before that. Abba was—” He stops, then corrects. “Avigdor Cohen was a ben zekunim. I guess it’s possible that she just didn’t realize that Abba wasn’t her son.”

“So your father took you to visit this woman and pretended you were her grandchildren? That’s—” Sick, Penina is about to say, but she stops herself and looks guiltily at Rivi. Rivi only sits still, jaw working beneath her skin.

“It’s strange. She wouldn’t be the first person to sit in a nursing home without any visitors,” Gabe muses. “Why would Abba have visited her? Have brought us to her? Do you think he knew her before…?” He gestures at nothing. “Rivi, I think we can do some research. Figure out where we were before our house. Who Avigdor Cohen really was.” His voice rises with excitement, and he has to visibly calm himself. It’s Gabe when he’s enthusiastic, and it’s as captivating as it had been six years ago. Penina winces. “I know the cops are going to search the house, but there’s no way that they can find as much as we can. We lived this.”

Rivi speaks, sharp and terse. “Yes,” she says. “And I refuse to live it again.” She rises, her stride as authoritative as her voice until it wavers and gives her away. “You two can dig as much as you want. Just leave me out of it.”

She storms out of the station, leaving Penina and Gabe behind. “She’s got a lot going on,” Penina offers, though she doesn’t think she has to make excuses for Rivi to her brother.

“I know. The house is tense right now.” Gabe shifts, visibly uncomfortable, and Penina sighs.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I came on a little strong on the phone on Thursday.”

“No, you were right,” Gabe says hastily, his eyes wide and round. “I deserved everything you said—”

“Didn’t mean I had to say it,” Penina points out. “Look, I think we’re— you’re going to be here a while, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Don’t think I’m going anywhere until we solve this.”

Penina nods. Rivi might be resistant to getting involved in her father’s past, but Gabe is a researcher by nature, and this is what he was made for. “So I think we need to put the past behind us. For Rivi’s sake. She needs us.”

Gabe exhales. “Right.” He clears his throat. “I think I’m going to go to Hillel’s office tomorrow to do some digging. If, you know, anyone else there would also want to help.”

“Oh, is Marvin getting involved?” Penina raises an eyebrow. “I bet he’d be great at piecing together all these clues—”

“You,” Gabe clarifies, though they both know what he’d meant. “If you happen to be there. We could use someone good at databases or hacking or… whatever it is that you can do.”

Maybe it’s a mistake, teaming up with Gabe on this. Penina is still wary, and Rivi doesn’t want her to find these answers. But Penina loves a good puzzle, and this is the best one she’s ever encountered. “If I happen to be there,” she agrees.

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 910)