Chapter 9: The Box From My Mother
The word “mother” changed the entire room.
Everything else disappeared.
The guests.
The wedding.
Felicity.
All of it.
Because my mother was the one person nobody could use against me.
The one person who had loved me without conditions.
“Why would you have something from my mother?”” I asked Silas.
His expression softened.
“Because she gave it to me.””
My heart raced.
“That’s impossible.””
He shook his head.
“No, Jenna.””
He looked at my necklace.
“The night before she passed away, she asked me to protect something.””
I touched the silver pendant around my neck.
My mother’s necklace.
The only thing I had left.
“What?””
Silas reached into his jacket.
This time, he pulled out a small wooden box.
I recognized it instantly.
Not because I had seen it before.
Because I had dreamed about it.
A box like this sat on my mother’s bedside table when I was younger.
But after she died, it disappeared.
“I thought my father took it,” I whispered.
Silas looked confused.
“Your father?””
I turned toward Richard.
He looked pale.
“You knew about this?””
He didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
My hands started shaking.
“What was in the box?””
Silas walked toward me.
“Your mother’s letters.””
I froze.
“Letters?””
“Yes.””
“To who?””
He looked at Richard.
Then back at me.
“To you.””
The room went silent.
I couldn’t move.
My mother had left me letters.
And I never knew.
“Why didn’t I get them?””
Nobody answered.
I looked at my father.
“Dad.””
His face collapsed.
“I thought I was protecting you.””
The same words.
Always the same words.
Protecting me.
Protecting me by hiding things.
Protecting me by making decisions for me.
“What does that mean?””
He looked down.
“Your mother wrote those letters during her last months.””
I felt tears forming.
“She knew she was dying?””
“Yes.””
“And you kept them?””
His silence was painful.
“I couldn’t give them to you.””
“Why?””
He struggled.
“Because she wrote about things she wanted you to know.””
My voice shook.
“What things?””
Silas answered.
“The truth.””
My father looked at him.
“You don’t understand.””
Silas’s expression hardened.
“No. I understand perfectly.””
The guests watched as years of secrets finally came into the light.
Silas opened the box.
Inside were several envelopes.
Each one had my name.
Jenna.
My fingers covered my mouth.
I couldn’t believe it.
My mother’s handwriting.
Still there.
Still waiting.
Olivia stood beside me.
“Open one.””
I looked at her.
“I’m scared.””
She squeezed my hand.
“I know.””
A small smile.
“But you’re the person who stayed with me when I was scared.””
My eyes filled.
Slowly, I picked up the first envelope.
The date was written on the front.
Three weeks before my mother died.
I opened it.
The first line made my knees weak.
My sweet Jenna,
I stopped.
Nobody else existed.
Not anymore.
I read silently.
If you are reading this, it means I didn’t get enough time to tell you everything myself.
My vision blurred.
I know people will tell you what kind of person you are. Some will say you’re too emotional. Too serious. Too much.
I looked down.
Because she knew.
She knew before anyone else.
But your heart has always been your greatest strength.
A tear fell onto the paper.
Then I reached the next paragraph.
And my entire body went cold.
There is something you need to know about your father and your sister.
I stopped reading.
My heart pounded.
I looked up.
Everyone was watching.
Silas noticed my expression.
“What did it say?””
I couldn’t answer.
Because the next sentence changed everything.
The reason Jenna was never treated equally in our family was not an accident.
My breathing stopped.
I looked at Felicity.
She looked terrified.
Because somehow…
she already knew what came next.
I lowered my eyes to the letter.
And read the final line.
May you like
Felicity was never your real sister.
The room disappeared.
