When she opened the door and saw Alex, her face drained of color.
“You really are alive.”
He frowned.
“Why wouldn't I be?”
Laura looked at me.
“Because Dad said if Alex ever came asking about the box, something terrible had happened.”
She led us to the basement.
From a locked cabinet, she removed an old metal cashbox.
Inside were tax documents, letters, and a small brass key.
Number 317.
Alex exhaled.
“That’s it.”
Laura looked at him.
“Dad told me never to give it to anyone except Evelyn.”
I took the key.
Beneath it was an envelope.
My name appeared across the front in my father's handwriting.
I opened it.
Inside was a single sheet.
Evelyn, if you are reading this, then Alex failed to keep the past buried. Before you judge him, understand that the greatest lie he ever told you was also the one that saved your life.
