Taurus's thumb hovered over the screen, the unknown number still vibrating. He finally pressed 'answer,' holding the cheap phone to his ear. "Hello?" His voice was rough from disuse, cautious.
A pause on the other end, then a clear, formal voice spoke. "Good evening. Am I speaking with Mr. Taurus MacArthur?"
Taurus frowned, pulling the phone slightly away to look at the number again. "Who is this? Wrong number, maybe?"
"No, Mr. MacArthur, I believe I have the correct number," the voice persisted, calm but with an underlying note of urgency. "My name is Arthur Hayes. I am an attorney with Hayes & Associates. We represent the estate of the late Mr. Jonathan MacArthur."
Taurus blinked. MacArthur? That name was only written on the worn adoption papers he'd seen once, long ago. "Jonathan MacArthur?" he repeated, the name feeling foreign on his tongue. "I don't know anyone named Jonathan MacArthur."
"He was your father, Mr. MacArthur."
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Taurus let out a short, sharp laugh, utterly devoid of humor. "My father? Listen, buddy, I don't know what kind of scam you're running, but my father... he died a long time ago. And his name wasn't Jonathan." He made to hang up.
"Mr. MacArthur, please, wait!" The lawyer's voice was suddenly more insistent. "I understand your skepticism, given your circumstances, but this is very real. Your father, Jonathan MacArthur, passed away recently. Before his death, he stipulated that you were to be located. You have been identified as the sole primary beneficiary of his estate."
Taurus snorted, a sound of pure disbelief. "Beneficiary? What are you even talking about? Look, I'm hanging up."
"Mr. MacArthur, the inheritance is substantial," the lawyer pressed on, his tone dropping slightly, becoming more serious. "We are talking... billions of dollars."
Taurus froze, his thumb hovering over the 'end call' button again. Billions? The word felt absurd, belonging to a different universe entirely. He couldn't comprehend it. His entire life was measured in chores, scraps, and the absence of money. "Billions?" he echoed, the word tasting like ash. "You're insane. This is some elaborate prank, right? Tony, is this you?"
"It is not a prank, Mr. MacArthur," the lawyer stated firmly. "Your father spent twenty years trying to find you. He never stopped. His will was very specific. To confirm... your mother's name was Mary. And you were separated from them when you were just a small child, after an... incident... that left both your parents in a coma. You were placed in an orphanage before being adopted."
Taurus's breath hitched. Mary. Coma. Orphanage. These weren't details easily found. These were fragments of a life he barely remembered, shrouded in the vague, dismissive explanations given by the Ragnars when he was young and dared to ask. He gripped the phone tighter, the initial surge of disbelief warring with a sudden, chilling possibility. Could it be...?
"How... how did you know that?" Taurus whispered, the weariness in his voice replaced by a raw, trembling uncertainty.