Chapter 4: The Letter My First Wife Left Behind
For several seconds, I couldn't take my eyes off the envelope.
Sarah's handwriting.
I would have recognized it anywhere.
The slightly uneven capital letters. The way she crossed the letter T too far to the right. The small heart she sometimes drew beneath my name when she wanted to make me smile.
I hadn't seen that handwriting in five years.
And now Vanessa was standing in my kitchen, holding something my late wife had apparently left behind.
"Where did you get that?"" I asked.
Vanessa slipped the envelope back into her handbag.
"That's not important.""
"It is to me.""
"Then perhaps you should have asked more questions before marrying me.""
I stared at her.
"What does that mean?""
She gave a small, humorless laugh.
"Your first wife wasn't the perfect person you remember, Daniel.""
I felt my jaw tighten.
"Don't.""
"Don't what?""
"Don't use Sarah to distract me from what you've done to Emily.""
Vanessa leaned against the counter.
"You're so predictable. The moment someone mentions Sarah, you become defensive.""
"Because she's dead, Vanessa. She cannot defend herself.""
"Exactly.""
The casualness of that word made my stomach turn.
I stepped closer.
"Give me the envelope.""
She shook her head.
"Not until you agree to hear me out.""
"I've heard enough.""
"Then you'll never understand why I've had to deal with Emily the way I have.""
I stared at her.
"Are you seriously suggesting Sarah wanted you to treat her daughter this way?""
Vanessa's expression changed.
For the first time, I saw uncertainty.
"That's not what I said.""
"Then tell me what you mean.""
She opened her handbag and removed the envelope.
"Sarah gave this to me before she died.""
My heart seemed to stop.
"What?""
Vanessa placed the envelope on the counter.
"She contacted me several months before your wedding.""
I couldn't speak.
"She knew who I was?""
"She knew my name.""
"How?""
Vanessa looked down.
"Because I used to work with her.""
I frowned.
"Where?""
"At a marketing company in Boston. We weren't close, but we knew each other.""
I stared at her.
Sarah had worked in Boston for several years before Emily was born. She had never mentioned Vanessa.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because it wasn't relevant.""
"Apparently it is now.""
Vanessa pushed the envelope toward me.
"Read it.""
My hands were shaking when I picked it up.
The envelope had been opened and resealed.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
I unfolded it.
Daniel,
If you're reading this, something has happened that I hoped would never happen. I need you to know that I have been worried about Emily's future for a long time.
There are things about my family that I never told you. Things I thought I had left behind.
If you ever meet a woman named Vanessa Reed, please be careful about allowing her too much influence over Emily.
I cannot explain everything in this letter. I am afraid that if I put the details in writing, the wrong person might find them.
There is one thing I need you to understand.
Emily must never be made to feel that she is responsible for the happiness of the adults around her.
She has already lost enough.
Please protect her.
I love you both.
Sarah.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
My fingers went numb.
I looked up.
"Why would Sarah write this?""
Vanessa folded her arms.
"Because she knew I could be strict.""
"Strict?""
"She was worried I would become too involved.""
I shook my head.
"That letter doesn't explain anything.""
"She was paranoid near the end.""
"Stop.""
"Daniel, she was sick. She wasn't thinking clearly.""
I placed the letter on the counter.
"Sarah was recovering from surgery when she died. She wasn't confused.""
Vanessa looked away.
"Believe whatever you want.""
I picked up the envelope again.
There was something else inside.
A small photograph.
It showed Sarah standing outside an office building with another woman.
Vanessa.
They were younger, perhaps ten years earlier.
On the back, Sarah had written:
Some people never change.
I turned the photograph over.
"Why would she write that?""
Vanessa snatched it from my hand.
"Because she was angry with me.""
"About what?""
"That's none of your business.""
I stared at her.
"You're standing in my kitchen holding a letter from my dead wife, using it to justify mistreating my daughter. It became my business the moment you brought it into this house.""
Vanessa's voice rose.
"Sarah was a difficult woman!""
I took a step back.
She continued.
"She thought she could control everyone. She thought money could solve everything. She wasn't the saint you remember.""
I looked at the woman I had married.
Then I understood something.
Vanessa wasn't simply angry that I loved Emily.
She resented the part of my life that existed before her.
The part she could never erase.
"Give me the photograph and the letter.""
"No.""
"Vanessa.""
"I said no!""
She shoved the envelope into her handbag.
Then she walked out of the kitchen.
I followed her into the hallway.
"You're not leaving with Sarah's belongings.""
She stopped at the front door.
"They're mine.""
"How?""
"She gave them to me.""
"Then why did you hide them?""
Vanessa turned.
"Because I knew you'd react like this.""
I held out my hand.
"Put them down.""
For a moment, I thought she might refuse.
Then she removed the envelope and dropped it onto the hallway table.
"Keep it," she said.
"Maybe you'll finally understand what kind of woman Sarah really was.""
She walked upstairs.
I remained by the table, looking at the envelope.
Behind me, I heard Emily's voice.
"Dad?""
I turned quickly.
She was standing near the living room entrance.
Her eyes were fixed on the letter.
"Was that Mom's handwriting?""
I nodded.
Emily approached slowly.
"Can I see it?""
I hesitated.
"Of course.""
She touched the paper with two fingers.
For a moment, she simply stared at her mother's name.
Then she whispered, "I remember this.""
I looked at her.
"You do?""
"Mom used to write notes and put them in my lunchbox.""
She smiled faintly.
"She always drew little hearts.""
I sat beside her.
"She did.""
Emily traced the bottom of the letter.
"Why did Mom write that?""
"I don't know yet.""
"Did she know Vanessa?""
I looked at my daughter.
That was the question I couldn't answer.
"I think they knew each other before we met.""
Emily's expression changed.
"Is that bad?""
"I don't know, sweetheart.""
She looked at the envelope again.
Then she said something that made me feel as though someone had reached into my chest.
"Vanessa told me Mom didn't want me to live with you.""
I went completely still.
"What?""
Emily looked down.
"She said Mom wanted me to go away because I was too much trouble.""
I knelt in front of her.
"When did she say that?""
"Before Christmas.""
"Did she say anything else?""
Emily nodded.
"She said you only kept me because you promised Mom.""
My throat tightened.
"Emily, listen to me. Your mother loved you more than anything.""
"I know.""
"And I love you.""
"I know, Dad.""
She looked at the letter.
"But sometimes Vanessa says things that make me wonder.""
I pulled her into my arms.
"Then I should have been there to stop her.""
Emily didn't answer.
She just held on.
That afternoon, I called my sister Laura and asked her to take Emily to her house for the night.
I explained that I needed time to deal with Vanessa.
Laura didn't ask questions.
She simply arrived with her car and a bag of Emily's favorite snacks.
Before leaving, Emily hugged me.
"Are you coming tomorrow?""
"Yes.""
"Promise?""
"I promise.""
She hesitated.
"Don't let Vanessa throw my things away.""
I looked at her.
"She won't.""
Laura placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Call me if you need anything.""
After they left, I went into my study and searched through the old storage boxes Sarah and I had kept.
I found wedding photographs, hospital documents, insurance papers, and Emily's baby pictures.
But no correspondence with Vanessa.
Then I found an old address book.
Sarah's handwriting covered several pages.
I searched the letter V.
There it was.
*Vanessa Reed — Boston Office — 617-555-0148.*
Beside the number was a small handwritten note.
Do not trust her with Emily.
I stared at it.
The handwriting was Sarah's.
The date beside it was six months before she died.
I photographed the page.
Then I searched the internet for Vanessa's old employer.
The company had been acquired years earlier, but I found a former employee directory.
I recognized a name listed beside Vanessa's.
*Rebecca Collins.*
I searched for her on social media.
Her profile was private, but her professional information was public.
She was now working as a school counselor in Massachusetts.
I sent her a message.
*Hello, Rebecca. My name is Daniel Carter. My late wife, Sarah Carter, worked with you in Boston.
I'm trying to understand something involving Vanessa Reed. If you knew either of them, I'd appreciate a conversation.*
I didn't expect an immediate reply.
But less than ten minutes later, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
"Hello?""
A woman's voice sounded cautious.
"Is this Daniel Carter?""
"Yes.""
"My name is Rebecca Collins. I received your message.""
I sat down.
"Thank you for calling.""
There was a pause.
Then she asked:
"Is Emily safe?""
My entire body stiffened.
"She's with my sister. Why?""
Rebecca exhaled slowly.
"Because if Vanessa has contacted your family again, you need to know what happened in Boston.""
I gripped the phone.
"What happened?""
Rebecca was silent for several seconds.
Then she said:
"Sarah didn't just work with Vanessa. She reported her for something involving a child.""
My blood ran cold.
"What kind of report?""
Rebecca's voice dropped.
"Daniel, before I explain, I need you to answer one question.""
"Anything.""
"Has Vanessa ever told you that she was the reason Sarah died?""
I couldn't breathe.
Because my wife had never said those exact words.
May you like
But she had just spent the morning telling me that Sarah was paranoid, difficult, and unstable.
And suddenly, I wondered whether that was only the beginning.
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