Page 84 of Shattered

“What’s she going to say?”

“You’ll know soon, she’s been crying for the past hour and clutching Mom’s journal.” He let go of my arm. “She’s in Mom’s room.”

I found her sitting on Elena’s bed holding a leather-bound journal against her chest like it contained secrets. Her eyes were red and swollen. Her face was blotchy from crying. She looked exhausted and fragile, like she’d been put through an emotional meat grinder.

She looked up when I walked in. Something in her expression made my chest constrict so tight I forgot how to breathe.

We stared at each other. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. If I should sit or stand or leave or touch her or what. Three weeks of distance had made everything feel impossible.

“You grew a beard,” she said finally.

I touched my jaw. “It’s been one week. This is stubble.”

“It’s a lot of stubble.”

“I was in a hurry.”

“To get here?”

“To see you.” The admission came out raw. Honest. “You texted and I dropped everything.”

Something in her face changed. Got softer. More open. “You came fast.”

“You texted. Of course I came fast.” I moved closer. “What did you find?”

She handed me the journal. “Page forty-three.”

I sat beside her on the bed. The mattress dipped under my weight, our knees almost touching. Almost but not quite.

I opened to the page she’d marked with shaking hands.

Elena’s handwriting stared back at me.

Found letters today. In Axel’s old room. Love letters. To Delia. From Axel. Years’ worth. Starting when he was fourteen.

The world stopped spinning.

Everything stopped—my heart, my breath, my ability to think or move or exist as a functional human being.

Elena had found the letters. She had known for years about my feelings for her daughter.

I looked up. Delia was watching me with an expression I couldn’t read.

“Is it true?” she asked. Her voice was so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

“Yes.”

The admission sat between us. Heavy. Unavoidable.

“Where are the letters now?”

“Destroyed. A few years ago. I was terrified someone would find them.” I set the journal down carefully. “I thought I’d gotten rid of them all. Didn’t realize I’d missed some.”

“What did they say?”