Chapter 2 - AMELIA’S LETTER
My late wife had never met Lily.
At least, that was what I believed.
Amelia died eighteen months before Lily started working for me.
Cancer.
Thirty-nine years old.
Oliver had been five months old when she died.
For the first six months afterward, I refused almost every nanny candidate.
Then my sister convinced me I couldn’t run Blackwood Systems and raise an infant alone while pretending I didn’t need help.
Lily Carter arrived through a professional agency.
Twenty-six.
Early childhood education degree.
Excellent references.
Quiet.
Patient.
Oliver adored her almost immediately.
I had treated that as luck.
Now Lily was telling me Amelia had left something connected to her mother.
“What letter?”
Serena answered before Lily could.
“She found it in Amelia’s desk.”
I looked at Lily.
“Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Why were you in Amelia’s desk?”
“I wasn’t searching.”
Serena laughed.
I ignored her.
Lily said:
“You asked me to get Oliver’s vaccination file.”
I remembered.
The file cabinet in Amelia’s old office still held some pediatric records.
“The bottom drawer jammed,” Lily continued. “A folder fell behind it.”
“And?”
“There was an envelope.”
“What name?”
She looked at me.
“Grace Carter.”
My stomach tightened.
Carter.
Lily’s last name.
“Who is Grace Carter?”
“My mother.”
Serena moved closer.
“She’s lying.”
Lily shook her head.
“My mother died when I was sixteen.”
“Did you know Amelia?”
“No.”
“Did your mother?”
“I didn’t think so.”
“What did the letter say?”
“I didn’t read all of it.”
Serena scoffed.
“Convenient.”
Lily looked ashamed.
“I read the first line because I saw Mom’s name.”
“What line?”
Her eyes lifted.
Grace,
If Victor ever learns what happened in Santa Barbara, everything changes.
Silence.
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because my wife had been dead for eighteen months and had apparently left me another secret.
“What happened in Santa Barbara?”
“I don’t know.”
Serena said:
“She knows.”
I turned.
“How would you know?”
Her face tightened.
“I read the letter.”
“You read Amelia’s private letter?”
“After I caught Lily with it.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“And you didn't tell me?”
“I was protecting you.”
I felt anger rise.
“From what?”
“From another dead woman manipulating your life.”
That sentence made Lily look away.
I stared at Serena.
“Where is the letter?”
She said nothing.
“Serena.”
“I destroyed it.”
The room went silent.
“What?”
“It was poison.”
“You destroyed something written by my wife?”
“She was dead.”
My voice dropped.
“Where is it?”
“I tore it up.”
“Where?”
“Trash.”
“Which trash?”
She looked away.
I understood.
Not ordinary trash.
Gone.
Deliberately.
I took Oliver back from Lily.
“Serena, go upstairs.”
“What?”
“Go upstairs.”
“You're throwing me out of the room?”
“Yes.”
“For the nanny?”
“For destroying something that belonged to my family and hitting an employee while she held my son.”
She stared at me.
Then looked at Lily.
“This is exactly what she wanted.”
“No.”
I kept my voice quiet.
“This is what you did.”
Serena went upstairs.
For the first time, I saw something beyond jealousy in her expression.
Fear.
I turned to Lily.
“Tell me everything.”
She told me the envelope contained more than a letter.
A photograph.
She had only seen it briefly before Serena took everything from her.
The photograph showed Amelia.
Grace Carter.
And a third woman.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Where?”
“Outside a clinic.”
“What clinic?”
Lily shook her head.
“I couldn’t read the sign.”
“Anything else?”
“There was a date written on the back.”
“When?”
“Twenty-seven years ago.”
I looked at her.
Lily was twenty-six.
A chill ran through me.
“What month?”
“June.”
Her birthday was June 14.
I knew because the agency file listed it.
I asked:
“Lily, when were you born?”
“June fourteenth.”
“Where?”
“Santa Barbara.”
The same city from Amelia’s letter.
I sat down.
Oliver played with the button on my shirt.
A dead wife.
A dead mother.
A photograph from twenty-seven years ago.
And a sentence saying everything would change if I learned what happened in Santa Barbara.
Lily whispered:
“Mr. Blackwood?”
“Yes?”
“I think my mother knew your wife before you ever met her.”
That was possible.
What came next was harder.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
May you like
Then she looked at Oliver.
“But Serena does.”
