“Door was unlocked. I brought your favorites. From Lily and me.”
She took the bouquet from my hands.
“Where is Lily? She should be here.”
I stepped into the kitchen.
“She has a double shift and couldn’t make it. She sent her love and said she’ll make it up to you.”
“Hmm… alright. Sit, sit. Your father will be back soon, and the quiche is almost ready.”
“Actually, can I use the bathroom first?”
“Go ahead, honey. You know where it is.”
I walked down the hallway slowly, like nothing inside me was breaking. I passed the bathroom. I kept going.
Years ago, Jean had declared the hall closet off-limits. She’d said she was keeping her personal things there, but I suspected that was where I’d find Mom’s letters.
“Actually, can I use the bathroom first?”
I eased the hall closet door open.
It was full of Jean’s things — last season’s designer coats and bags, mostly.
Right at the bottom, three stacked shoeboxes caught my attention.
My heart hammered as I kneeled.
I lifted the lid off the first box.
It was full of letters addressed to Lily and me.
I eased the hall closet door open.
I picked one up. It was still sealed and postmarked 12 years ago.
Another. Sealed.
Another, but this one was open. It was a birthday card.
Happy birthday, my beautiful girls! I hope to see you again soon.
Love, Mom.
A small sound escaped my throat before I could stop it.
“Anna? Honey, are you okay back there?” Jean called out.
It was a birthday card.
“Yeah! Just a second!”
I dug faster. The dates climbed up through the years.
Then I saw it — an envelope at the top, the postmark fresh.
Nine days ago.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“Anna?”
Jean’s footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Nine days ago.
I shoved letters into my purse, into my jacket, into my waistband, anywhere they’d fit.
“Anna, what are you—”
Jean stopped in the closet doorway.
Her face went through three expressions in one second. Confusion. Recognition. Then something colder than I’d ever seen.
“Put those back right now, or I’ll make sure your father never speaks to you and your sister ever again.”
I shoved letters into my purse.
All my childhood fears crashed down on me.
I stared at her, speechless, knowing full well that was no idle threat, and that if anyone could pull it off, it was her.
“I’m serious.” She stepped closer, voice dropping low. “Your father will be home any minute. Put those back, sit down and eat your quiche, and we’ll never speak of this again. This is the only chance I’m going to give you, Anna.”
The front door clicked open then.
Jean sighed. “Looks like your time just ran out.”
That was no idle threat.
I panicked.
“Dad! Please come here, you need to see—”
CONTINUE READING…>>
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