Rebecca’s smile disappeared.
“What?”
The lawyer pushed it toward me.
I didn’t move.
My hands suddenly felt cold.
“What did he put inside?”
The lawyer looked at me.
“I don’t know.”
Rebecca scoffed.
“You’re telling us you didn’t look?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because your father specifically instructed me not to.”
Silence filled the room.
I reached for the box.
Before I opened it, I noticed something.
My name was written underneath.
Not my married name.
My maiden name.
I stared at it.
That was impossible.
Richard had met me after I had already been using my married name from a previous short-lived marriage.
He had never used my maiden name.
I looked at the lawyer.
“Why is my maiden name on this?”
He didn’t answer.
Rebecca leaned forward.
“Open it.”
I lifted the lid.
Inside was an old photograph.
A photograph of me.
I couldn’t breathe.
It wasn’t a recent photograph.
It was from when I was nineteen.
I was standing beside my mother outside the tiny apartment where I had grown up.
My hands started shaking.
“Where did he get this?”
The lawyer looked at me.
“I don’t know.”
I picked up the photograph.
There was something written on the back.
