Chapter 2 - I felt tears sting unexpectedly.
"She taught?"
Dominic looked at the program.
"Your mother?"
"She left school when she was sixteen."
"Maybe that's why."
I looked at him.
He nodded toward the page.
"People sometimes build the thing they once needed."
That sentence stayed with me.
We spent almost two hours going through the folder.
Rosebridge had operated quietly for six years.
Employees earned certificates.
Some attended college.
Several started businesses.
There were childcare reimbursements for parents attending night classes.
Book grants.
Music scholarships.
Then everything ended.
No explanation.
The final program was dated October 2008.
After that, nothing.
"Was that when your mother died?"
I asked carefully.
Dominic's jaw tightened.
"No.
She died in 2013."
Five missing years.
"What happened in 2008?"
He closed the folder.
"The financial crisis nearly destroyed several family companies.
My father cut anything he considered unnecessary."
"Including Rosebridge."
"Apparently."
Something in his tone suggested there was more to it.
Before I could ask, Marcus's phone rang.
He answered, listened, then looked toward Dominic.
"Your sister."
Dominic went completely still.
"What does she want?"
"She heard someone accessed the old foundation records."
"How?"
Marcus hesitated.
"Because apparently she's still listed as an administrator."
Dominic exhaled through his nose.
"Of course she is."
I looked from one man to the other.
"Your sister is the girl in the photograph?"
"Elena."
"You don't sound thrilled."
"We don't agree on many things."
Marcus murmured, "That's diplomatic."
Dominic ignored him.
Twenty minutes later, a video call was connected in the study.
Elena Vale appeared on the screen wearing reading glasses and a green sweater, with shelves full of books behind her.
She looked nothing like the intimidating figure I expected.
Her first words were, "Dominic, before you say anything irritating—"
Then she saw me.
She stopped.
Her face lost all color.
"Who is that?"
I instinctively touched my hair.
Dominic frowned.
"This is Mara Ellis."
Elena removed her glasses.
"Ellis?"
"My mother was Evelyn."
Elena stared at me.
Not suspiciously.
Emotionally.
"Oh," she whispered.
I looked at Dominic.
Dominic looked at Elena.
Marcus looked like he was reconsidering every career choice that had brought him into that room.
"You knew my mother?"
I asked.
Elena nodded slowly.
"I knew of her."
"Why did she never tell me?"
"I don't know."
Dominic stepped toward the monitor.
"What do you know about Rosebridge?"
Elena's expression became guarded.
"More than you do."
"Then tell me."
"Not over a video call."
"Elena."
"I'm coming tomorrow."
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
"You haven't been here in four years."
"Then I suppose the guest room needs dusting."
All three of them looked at me.
I sighed.
"Of course it does."
Elena almost smiled.
Before disconnecting, she said something that changed the atmosphere again.
"Mara?"
"Yes?"
"Your mother wasn't just an employee."
I waited.
Elena's voice softened.
"Rosebridge was her idea."
I looked down at the old program in my hands.
The room became very quiet.
After the call ended, Dominic remained by the window.
I couldn't stop staring at the photograph.
Everything I knew about my mother's life had suddenly developed another hallway.
Another locked room.
Another version of her.
"Why hide something good?"
I whispered.
Dominic looked toward the darkening grounds.
"Sometimes people aren't hiding what happened."
I waited.
"They're hiding what it cost them."
I thought about my mother's tired hands.
Her reluctance to accept help.
The little wooden box in her closet that I had never opened after her death because doing so felt too personal.
And suddenly I remembered exactly where that box was now.
In my apartment.
Still locked.
I stood.
Dominic turned.
"What?"
"My mother kept a box."
"What kind?"
"Wooden.
Small.
She carried it through every move we ever made."
"Did you open it?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because she asked me not to."
Dominic's expression softened.
"And now?"
I looked at the photograph of our mothers laughing beneath the maple tree.
"Now I'm wondering whether she was asking me not to open it forever."
I picked up my coat.
"Or whether she was asking me to wait until I finally knew the right question."
And for the first time, I knew exactly what question I needed to ask.
May you like
What happened to Rosebridge?
And why had two women who once seemed inseparable spent the rest of their lives pretending it had never existed?
Related Stories
