Chapter 4: The Letter That Was Never Meant to Be Found
The paper was thin, the kind used for personal stationery, cream-colored with a faint floral border along the top edge.
The handwriting was looped and careful — the handwriting of a woman who had taken her time with every word.
His hands were not steady when he unfolded it.
*My darling Maya,*
*If you are reading this, then I am not there to tell you myself.
I want you to know some things that I need you to hold onto.*
*You are loved.
You were wanted.
From the very first moment, you were the best thing I ever did.*
*I also need to tell you something about the woman your father may one day bring into our home.
I don't know her name.
I don't know if it will happen.
But your father is a good man who gets lonely, and good men who get lonely sometimes trust the wrong people.*
*There is a document.
It is in the blue folder inside the filing cabinet in your father's office, behind the insurance papers.
It is a copy of my will.
In it, I have left everything I owned — including the money from my mother's estate — directly to you and Mia.
Not to your father.
Not to anyone else.
To you.*
*Make sure it is still there.*
*All my love, always,*
*Mom*
He read it twice.
Then he set it on his knee and looked at the wall.
"Did you read this?" he asked Maya.
"Yes," she said.
"I didn't understand all of it.
But I understood the part about the filing cabinet."
He looked at her.
"Have you checked?"
Maya was quiet for a moment.
"I tried to, once.
The cabinet was locked.
It didn't used to be locked."
He stood up.
He put the letter carefully back in the envelope and put the envelope in his jacket pocket.
He picked up the shoebox.
"Stay here," he said.
"Both of you.
Lock this door."
"Dad—" Mia started.
"Lock it," he said.
"I'll knock three times when it's me."
He went downstairs.
Diane was in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of wine with the practiced calm of someone who had decided to wait out a storm.
Her two children — Tyler, sixteen, and Becca, thirteen — were still at the dining table, silent, watching their plates.
He walked past the kitchen without stopping and went directly to his office at the back of the house.
The filing cabinet was locked.
It had a small keyed lock on the upper drawer, the kind that came standard with the cabinet.
He had never locked it.
He had never needed to.
He stood there looking at it.
Then he went back to the kitchen doorway.
"Where is the key to the filing cabinet?" he asked.
Diane turned from the counter.
"What key?"
"The filing cabinet in my office.
It's locked.
It was not locked before I left on this trip.
Where is the key?"
She tilted her head slightly.
"I have no idea what you're talking about.
Maybe you locked it yourself before you left and forgot."
"I didn't."
"Then I don't know." She lifted her glass.
"Maybe one of the girls was playing with it."
He looked at her for a long moment.
"Tyler," he said, turning to the boy at the table.
"Has your mother been in my office recently?"
Tyler looked at his plate.
"I don't know."
"Becca?"
Becca glanced at her mother.
Then back at her plate.
"I didn't see anything."
He went back to the office.
He tried the letter opener on the lock — useless.
He tried a small flathead screwdriver from the desk drawer.
The lock held.
He sat down in his office chair and looked at the locked drawer.
His phone buzzed.
A text from a number he didn't recognize.
*She moved something out of that cabinet three days ago.
I saw her carry a folder to her car.
I didn't know if I should say anything.
I'm sorry I waited.
— Carol*
Carol was their neighbor.
She had a clear sightline to the driveway from her kitchen window.
He stared at the message.
He typed back: *Can you come over?*
Three dots appeared.
Then: *I'm already on my way.
I saw the lights on.*
A knock at the front door came two minutes later.
Diane got there first.
He heard her open the door.
He heard Carol's voice say, "Oh — hi, Diane.
Is Thomas home?"
And he heard Diane say, very quietly: "This really isn't a good time, Carol.
The family is dealing with something private."
He was already in the hallway.
"Carol," he said.
"Come in."
May you like
Diane turned.
For just a moment — one unguarded moment — the careful smile was completely gone.
