Chapter 4 - The Courier’s Delivery
I descended the stairs quickly, trying to smooth my hair and steady my breathing before pulling the door open.
The courier didn't smile. He held out a clipboard and the thick envelope. "Nora Vance?"
"Yes," I said, my voice cracking slightly.
"Sign here, please."
I scribbled my name on the electronic pad, took the envelope, and watched as the courier turned and walked briskly down the driveway toward his van.
I closed the door, locking the deadbolt with a metallic click that echoed in the quiet hallway. I flipped the heavy envelope over. There was no return address. Just my name and address written in bold, printed letters.
I tore the flap open and tipped the contents onto the entryway console table.
Out slid a stack of official-looking documents: hospital discharge forms from eighteen years ago, a notarized affidavit bearing a signature I didn't recognize, and a single glossy photograph.
My hands shook so violently I nearly dropped the photo.
It was a picture of a young man, perhaps eighteen years old, standing on a wooden dock by a lake at dusk. He had the same dark curls as Leo, the same sharp jawline as Mason, and eyes that looked straight into the camera lens with an intense, haunting familiarity.
Attached to the photo was a sticky note:
I found the truth in Grandma’s attic last week. See you at sunset, Mom. Don't let her follow you.
The music from the backyard suddenly stopped, followed by the sound of laughter and someone shouting my name.
"Nora!" My mother's voice called out from the side yard, moving toward the front entrance. "Honey, do you have a minute? Mason wants to know if we can slice the cake now!"
Panic seized my chest. If Mom walked through that front door and saw the documents spread out on the console table, everything would blow apart before I even had a chance to understand what was happening.
May you like
I swept the papers and the photograph into my arms, bolted up the stairs just as the front door handle jiggled, and locked myself inside the master bathroom.
"Nora?" Mom's voice drifted through the wood paneling, sounding closer now. "Are you alright in there, dear?"
