With affection, Mom.
A small sound escaped my mouth before I could stop it.
“Stella? Sweetie, is everything all right down the hall?” Amber called.
“Yes! Just give me one moment!”
I searched faster. The postmarks moved forward through the years.
Then I found the prize — a paper envelope near the top with a brand-new stamp.
Only nine days old.
“Oh my goodness,” I whispered.
“Stella?”
Amber’s heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.
I shoved the letters into my bag, into my coat, into the waistband of my pants — anywhere they would fit.
“Stella, what in the world are you—”
Amber stopped right at the closet doorway.
Her face shifted through three expressions in a single heartbeat. Confusion. Realization. Then something far colder than anything I had ever seen from her.
“Return those items immediately, or I will make sure your dad never speaks to you or your sister for the rest of your lives.”
Every single fear from my childhood crashed down on my shoulders.
I stared straight at her, unable to speak, knowing completely that her threat was real, and certain that if anyone could make it happen, it was this woman.
“I mean it.” She stepped closer, her voice dropping. “Your dad is going to walk through that door any second. Put those things down, sit at the table, finish your quiche, and we will never speak of this again. This is the absolute last chance I am giving you, Stella.”
The front door unlocked with a click right at that moment.
Amber exhaled. “It appears your time is up.”
I completely panicked.
“Dad! Please come here, you have to see—”
I stopped mid-sentence because Amber’s hand shot forward and clamped onto my arm. Hard.
“Stella?” Dad called, his shoes hurrying across the floorboards.
“Final warning,” Amber growled. “Smile, Stella, or I swear to God I will throw you out of this house before the sun sets.”
I looked down at her grip, then lifted my eyes to hers, and I saw a clear truth: Amber was terrified.
Dad walked up right past Amber and stared at the two of us.
“Stella, what is going on here? Those belong to Amber’s private things,” he said.
“Thank God you are here!” Amber spun around and clung to my dad. “Stella has gone crazy! She started tearing through all my belongings, making wild accusations—”
“I have not gone crazy!” I held up a large stack of envelopes. “Dad. Look at this handwriting. These are letters from Mom. Amber has been hiding them all this time.”
His face drained of color. “That is Rose’s handwriting.”
“There are piles of them, Dad. Completely sealed. Completely addressed to Lucy and me.”
“I can explain—”
Dad turned to Amber. “She vanished without a single word, without a goodbye… and you have been stashing mail from her this whole time?”
“This envelope arrived just last week.” I held up the newest letter. “Amber manipulated Mom. She convinced Mom that you wanted a divorce and were planning to destroy her life and lock her in a hospital because of her depression. I overheard her on the phone, Dad. Bragging about the whole thing.”
Dad’s expression turned to stone.
“Do you see? I told you she went crazy,” Amber said. “Yes, I held onto the mail. I truly believed I was doing the right thing. But all this nonsense about me scaring Rose off? That is just the babbling of a disturbed child!”
Dad shook his head. “I never told the kids about Rose’s struggle with depression.”
Amber went white.
“The only person I ever discussed that with was you, a long time ago when we worked at the same place, right before Rose left. Oh my God, the whole story is true, is it not?” Dad stared hard at Amber as tears filled his eyes. “Get out of my house right now, Amber.”
Amber took a step back. She looked quickly between Dad and me and seemed to realize she had completely lost.
“Fine, I will leave,” she snapped. “But you will regret this. Every single one of you! I was the best thing that ever happened to this family.”
She turned sharply on her heel and stormed out.
Dad sank down onto the floor beside me. He took the newest envelope from my hands with trembling fingers and turned it over.
“The return address is only two towns away.” He met my eyes. “We need to get Lucy and go. Right now.”
We drove to the store where Lucy worked. After a little convincing, her manager let her clock out early.
We traveled the whole way in silence and finally parked in front of a modest house with a neat front yard.
I knocked on the door. The woman who opened it looked exactly like Lucy and me, only older. She stared at our faces in pure disbelief for a second, then broke down into heavy tears.
“My babies! Is it really you two?”
I pulled her into a tight hug. “It is really us, Mom.”
And for the first time in fifteen long years, I felt truly wanted.
