Chapter 11 - THE MUSIC BOX KEY AND THE FINAL LETTER
We followed Ivy upstairs to her bedroom.
The room was painted a soft lavender, filled with stuffed animals and bookshelves. On her nightstand sat a beautiful porcelain music box. It was a carousel with a tiny glass ballerina in the center.
Ivy walked over to it, picked it up, and turned it upside down.
She peeled back a small piece of felt on the bottom of the base.
A tiny brass key fell into her palm.
Daniel let out a shaky breath. “How did you know that was there, Ivy?”
“Mommy told me it was a secret game,” Ivy said, looking proud. “She said if Grandma ever brought out the wooden box, I had to be the one to open it.”
We walked back downstairs. The house was utterly silent, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall.
Ivy slid the tiny brass key into the lock of the wooden box.
It turned with a soft click.
She lifted the lid.
Inside, there was no money. There was no blackmail material. There were no dark secrets about Vanessa or the debts.
There was only a single, thick envelope made of heavy cotton paper.
And written on the front, in Claire’s elegant handwriting, was my name.
For Raina.
I stared at it, the blood rushing in my ears.
“For me?” I whispered. “But… I didn’t even work here when Claire was alive. I was hired two months after she died.”
Daniel looked just as shocked. He carefully lifted the envelope and handed it to me.
“Open it,” he said softly.
My hands trembled as I broke the wax seal. I pulled out a two-page letter, dated three years ago.
May you like
I took a deep breath and began to read aloud.
“Dear Raina. If you are reading this, it means you stayed.”
