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‘Yes, I know what’s going on and why Lance is so angry. And I’ve wanted to tell you the truth for ages, explain what a huge mistake I’ve made because I know I’ve messed up. But it’s not what you think, what Lance says. I’m not a bad person so when you look inside those books please remember that.’
Joe looked away and flipped the cover. Jenny went to his side and watched as he turned each page. Edie couldn’t even look at Lance because she knew he’d be smug and she’d want to punch him so instead she turned to Ace. ‘I’m sorry Ace, but please remember that I love you, that is the truth. Out of all this, I care about you the most and I love you from the bottom of my heart.’ When his face contorted, fear dragging his skin tightly across his cheekbones, frown lines furrowing his brow, the pain she was causing him became her own. He turned towards the table, wordless in his confusion.
Lance couldn’t contain himself as he watched Joe turn the pages then reach for the second book. ‘See, what did I tell you? I saw her looking at them the night of the storm, and I wondered why she’d hide stuff, then, when the second letter came I remembered her and Ace talking about her friend who lives in Chicago and got to wondering if she was sending the letters, on Edie’s behalf.’ He paused and watched as Joe turned another page. ‘We should have known… and I told you to check people out and not be so trusting. Especially when both her parents are druggies. Hell, her dad even went to prison and her mom killed herself…’
Edie gasped, consumed by rage, hearing the slur that offended and cut her deeply, acid pouring from the incision, all over her words that came out in a hiss. ‘Don’t you dare say that about my parents. You know nothing about them, you have no right to assume that.’
Lance smirked. ‘Ain’t that the truth.’ He dismissed her with a sneer and spoke instead to Joe, pointing at the notebooks. ‘What kind of freak does that, actually printing articles and photos and gluing them in… Jeez, it’s like a psycho movie. And all of us are in there, even our homes including this one, and look at the notes? Map references from Google Earth. She’s written it all down like some obsessed fan… even stuff you like to eat. It’s the creepiest shit I’ve ever seen in my life.’
When Edie felt Ace’s arm slide from her shoulder and he pulled away, he took her heart with him and left her desolate on the opposite side of the table to his family. She was in the dock, and they became the judges and jury. She shook as she watched them flick pages, seeing images of themselves on each one, wedding photos, God, even family line-ups and newspaper clippings. Edie didn’t blame Lance for condemning her on the spot. What else could he do? She would have done the same.
It was Jenny who reached out, gave her a chance to speak while her son kept his eyes down, and Edie prayed he wasn’t crying. ‘Edie,’ that stung, that she was no longer Ede, ‘would you like to explain all this?’
And in that moment, all alone on the edge of a table that may as well have been a cliff, Edie decided yes, actually she would like to explain. Scream the words out loud as she leapt into the abyss, finally say the lines she’d rehearsed, tell them about the hurt, the sadness, the loss, the loneliness and ask for answers. NO, demand the answers to questions she’d been compiling since she was sixteen years old.
God, she was angry now, at being judged, being looked at with suspicion, for all those years of doing without and as it bubbled inside, the resentment and doubt, the yearning for something that would never be hers, she opened her mouth to let it all out.
Lance got there first. ‘There’s no need for her to explain, can’t you see? She’s your stalker, Dad, she’s the one who’s been sending those letters. Funny how they’ve been coming for around a year, and Ace has known her for about that time, so I bet you, it’s her. She’s a liar and an imposter and we need to ring the police, right now.’
The rage when it erupted was like a release, a sublime moment of supreme power because she was none of those things, and she, plain old Edie May Lowe, had something to say.
‘NO, I am not. You want to know who I am, do you? Well, I’ll tell you…’ She looked from Lance, to Jenny, into Ace’s eyes at last, and then finally to Joe, pinning him with her glare and told him her truth.
‘I’m your granddaughter.’
