Page 65 of Taken Away

But it wasn't Anne that stole her breath.

It was the way she and Mabel looked at each other.

“What year is this?” she asked.

Walter lowered his coffee mug, squinting. “Oh Lord.” Something softened across his face. “Long time ago.” Aubrey stared harder.

The photograph didn't match the stories she'd grown up hearing.

Anne wasn't standing apart. She wasn't angry. She wasn't isolated.

She was laughing.

And so was Mabel.

The sisters had their arms thrown around each other.

Walter smiled faintly. "Used to be thick as thieves."

"My mother never talked about that," Aubrey said.

"No," Walter replied quietly. "I suppose she wouldn't."

Silence settled between them.

Aubrey studied the photograph again...

A family.

Not yet enemies.

"People change," she said finally.

Walter's expression grew distant. "Sometimes they get hurt."

Aubrey slid the picture back onto the desk, the story she'd carried her entire life suddenly shifting beneath her feet. Maybe her mother hadn't told her everything.

As he did, a small square of yellow slipped halfway out from beneath a clipped stack of expense reports. Aubrey caught the neon edge and tugged it free before it fell.

A sticky note. Edges curled. Ink still dark.

Two lines in Mabel’s firm, uncompromising cursive:

AUBREY — SALARY?

Eleanor – match Ashford.

Heat stung behind Aubrey’s eyes.

That wasn’t a whim.

That was a plan.

She slid the note back under the reports before Walter could see her hand shake, tucking it neatly where it had been hidden. When she looked up, he was already reaching for another ledger.

“Now let’s see if we can figure out why Mabel paid twelve thousand dollars for replacement irrigation pumps in 2018,” he said.

Outside the glass wall, a forklift beeped across the production floor.