Chapter 2: The Letter on the Counter
Everyone at the table froze.
Eliza's face had gone completely white.
Her hands were shaking.
Andrew set a small wooden box down in front of her — calm, quiet, no expression at all.
"I think this belongs to you," he said.
I had no idea what was inside.
But Eliza clearly did.
"Where did you get that?" she whispered.
"Your ex-husband dropped it off last week," Andrew said.
"He asked me to return it to you personally.
Said you'd know what it means."
Eliza snatched the box off the table and pressed it against her chest.
Our mother leaned forward.
"Eliza, what is that?"
"Nothing," Eliza snapped.
"It's nothing."
But it wasn't nothing.
I could see it in her eyes.
Andrew looked at me then — just for a second — and something passed between us that I couldn't quite read.
Later that night, after everyone had gone home, I found a folded piece of paper on the kitchen counter.
It wasn't addressed to me.
It was addressed to Andrew.
And it was in Eliza's handwriting.
I stood there holding it, my hands completely still, afraid to open it.
Andrew walked in from the hallway and stopped when he saw what I was holding.
He didn't say a word.
---
What was in that letter — and how long had Eliza been writing to Andrew behind my back?
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