Minutes ticked by.
Just as she was about to give up.
*Click.*
A crisp sound, so faint it was almost imperceptible.
The lock sprang open.
Annelise let out a long breath, removed the padlock, and gently pulled the cabinet doors open.
Inside lay three neatly arranged items.
On top was a diary with a yellowing cover.
Beneath the diary sat a thick stack of letters bound by a rubber band.
And at the very bottom was a large, folded photograph.
Annelise felt as though an invisible hand had seized her heart.
She picked up the diary and flipped it open.
The title page bore Lizzie's elegant handwriting, spelling out her own name.
Annelise flipped straight to the newest entry.
The date was from a week ago.
Lizzie’s handwriting, skewed and jagged from emotional instability, crawled across the page like struggling earthworms.
"I dreamed of Elias again today. He kept crying and shaking his head in the dream. He said he didn't die. He said he was coming back. I believe him. My son wouldn't lie to his mother."
Annelise’s fingers began to tremble slightly.
She flipped back a few pages and found another entry that nearly froze the blood in her veins.
The date was from six months ago.
"Clarissa said she had a child with Elias, named Manuel. She said before Elias left, they went to the hospital to freeze embryos. This is his only remaining bloodline."
"But Elias has been gone for three years. When did Clarissa get pregnant? Is this child really his?"
"I asked her, and she fell to her knees crying, swearing her devotion to my eldest son was pure, that Manuel is the eldest grandson of the Lehman family."
"I believed it. I had to believe her."
"But last night, I dreamed of Elias again. He was crying, telling me that the boy wasn't his, that Clarissa had deceived me, deceived the whole family."
"Who do I trust? Do I trust the living, or do I trust the dead?"
A wave of dizziness washed over Annelise.
So, Lizzie had suspected it all along.


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