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.
My mother’s handwriting.
I recognized it immediately.
My heart began pounding.
I turned the photograph over.
There were only seven words.
“If she ever comes back, protect her.”
I looked up.
Rebecca was staring at me.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
The lawyer reached into the box.
There was a second item beneath the photograph.
An envelope.
My name was written across it.
I opened it with trembling hands.
Inside was a letter.
Richard’s handwriting.
I knew it instantly.
My eyes blurred before I even finished the first sentence.
My dear Elena,
If you’re reading this, then I’m gone.
