Chapter 11 - The Second EnvelopeDarkness swallowed the chapel.
Someone screamed.
A chair fell.
I heard Paige grab my arm.
“Clara.”
“I'm here.”
The emergency lights flickered on.
Margaret was gone.
So was Aunt Denise.
The side door stood open.
Ethan ran outside.
Brooke followed.
My father stayed beside me.
Paige was shaking.
“What's happening?”
I looked at the altar.
There was something on it.
Another envelope.
I knew the handwriting immediately.
Mom.
I walked toward it.
My father caught my wrist.
“Don't.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother never left one clue when she could leave three.”
I looked at him.
“You're right.”
Ethan returned.
“They're gone.”
“Who?”
“Margaret and Denise.”
My heart sank.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a single photograph.
A house.
Old.
Abandoned.
And written below it:
The first place I hid you.
My hands went numb.
Paige stared.
“That house.”
“You know it?”
She nodded.
“I've seen it.”
“Where?”
“Marcus took me there once.”
Ethan looked at the photograph.
“That's in Westbrook.”
“What is it?”
“My mother's childhood home.”
I felt a cold wave move through me.
“Why hide me there?”
My father answered.
“She didn't.”
He pointed to the photograph.
“Look at the window.”
A small figure stood behind the glass.
A little girl.
I could barely see her face.
But the dress was familiar.
Blue.
My childhood dress.
I whispered:
“That’s me.”
Paige stepped closer.
“Who took this?”
“Your mother.”
“Why?”
My father turned pale.
“Because you were there too.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
He stared at the photograph.
“You were both there.”
The memory came in fragments.
A blue door.
Rain.
Mom crying.
Paige holding my hand.
A man shouting.
I had buried it so deeply I had forgotten it completely.
“Why don't I remember?”
“Your mother wanted you not to.”
“Did she erase it?”
“No.”
“She waited for your brain to protect itself.”
Ethan crouched beside the box.
“There is another compartment.”
He ran his hand along the wooden edge.
A small panel opened.
Inside was a cassette tape.
Old.
Labeled:
FOR THE GIRLS.
We found a portable player in the box.
I pressed play.
Mom's voice came through, older and tired.
“If you're hearing this, then the first truth has already been uncovered.”
Paige began crying.
Mom continued.
“You were born eight days apart because I could not save both of you at the same time.”
I looked at Paige.
She stared at me.
“The second truth is worse.”
Static.
Then:
“Margaret tried to sell one of you.”
My father gasped.
I stopped breathing.
“Not to Marcus.”
Mom's voice shook.
“To someone else.”
The recording cut out.
Ethan tried the player again.
Nothing.
The tape had ended.
Paige whispered:
“Who?”
My father didn't answer.
I turned to him.
“Who was she going to sell me to?”
He looked at me.
And said the name.
“Your grandfather.”
My skin prickled.
“But he's dead.”
“Now.”
“What does that mean?”
“He was alive when you were four.”
Paige stepped back.
“Why would he buy her?”
My father closed his eyes.
“Because you were never supposed to inherit the trust.”
The chapel became silent again.
I looked at the photograph.
The little girl behind the window.
My face.
My sister beside me.
Two children.
One secret.
One mother trying to save both.
And then Ethan's phone vibrated.
He read the message.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“They found Denise.”
“Where?”
“At the old Westbrook house.”
May you like
I grabbed my coat.
“Then that's where we're going.”
