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“We left everything the way it was,” she tells me. “And we’ve kind of been keeping an eye on the place to make sure nobody gets it in their head to break in. She’s paid up through the end of the month, you see. So it didn’t seem right to clean the place out yet. I guess you came along at the right time.”
“I guess so,” I whisper. I’m numb. I’m completely numb. I don’t even feel Lucas’s hand anymore, though I know it’s there. “Thanks for telling me.”
“We’re all real sorry, hon.” She shoots one final, curious look toward Lucas, and even now, in the middle of yet another shock, I can imagine how the trailer court will be talking about nothing but him for the rest of the day, if not into tomorrow. There’s nothing they love more than gossip.
I barely know what I’m doing as I turn back around and re-enter the trailer.
Lucas follows silently, only speaking once the door is closed. “Is there anything I can help you with? Do you want to get some boxes to pack up your belongings?”
“It’s funny. I barely remember why I wanted to come so badly.” It’s like I’m seeing everything through new eyes. The grimy windows, the chipped refrigerator, the broken cabinet doors. The sofa that sags in the middle thanks to the frame being broken forever ago. I don’t even remember it ever being intact.
I wonder how many surprises a person can take before they finally break.
“Delilah?” Lucas steps closer to me, and I can’t decide if I want to tell him to back off or beg him to hold me. I feel like I’m being pushed around by too many emotions. Grief. Shock. Regret. Confusion. I don’t know what to think or how to feel, or even how to take the next step.
I’m not even sure what the next step is.
“She said they left everything the way it was, right?” When Lucas only lets out a soft grunt, I go straight for the sofa.
“What are you doing?” he asks when I flip over the middle cushion.
“This was her favorite hiding spot,” I explain, pulling back the strip of duct tape positioned over a slit in the upholstery. “It tore by itself, but she used it to stash things. Money, usually.” I dip my hand inside, my fingers moving through the stuffing until they land on paper.
Only it’s not money. It’s an envelope with my name on it. I recognize her handwriting immediately, and a lump forms in my throat.
My fingers tremble as I open the envelope and pull out two pieces of paper with her familiar scrawl covering both sides. “Delilah,” I whisper, my eyes moving over the page. “You’ve been gone for weeks. No one will tell me where you are or what might have happened to you. I even went to your father’s house and heard what happened to the family.”
I gasp. “She went to him?” She must really have been desperate.
I keep reading, hungry for more. “Of course, I worried what happened to them would happen to you, too. Nobody could give me any answers, or they refused to. Either way, it’s had me worried about you—and me, too, since I’ve seen a couple of strangers wandering around where they shouldn’t be. Maybe I’m paranoid, I don’t know. That’s why I’m writing this letter and hiding it where I know you’ll find it if anything happens. I only hope you do before somebody tosses this piece of shit couch.” Funny, but I can almost hear her voice describing the beat-up old thing the way she always did.
I look up at Lucas, who doesn’t bother pretending he isn’t reading over my shoulder. “She thought the family was after her?” I whisper.
“I’m sure they don’t like people asking too many questions.” Yes, I can see that.
“You deserve to know the truth,” she wrote. “He always threatened me. Said he’d kill you if I didn’t go along with his lies. But now he’s gone, so I can tell you what’s been in my heart since the day you were born: I am your mother.”
I don’t realize my body is folding up on itself until I end up plopping onto the sofa. The letter falls from my shaking hands. I’m barely aware of Lucas picking it up off the floor. “I’m sorry I never told you,” he continues, “but it was my way of keeping you safe. I never knew for sure whether he would actually hurt you, but I didn’t want to take the chance. I’m sorry I’m not able to tell you this in person, but I hope I’ll be able to. I hope you come home, and I’m here when you do. But if something happens, I want you to know there was never a day I didn’t love you, and never a day it didn’t break my heart that I couldn’t tell you the truth. Just know I always loved you, and I always will. Your mom.” His voice trails off before he sighs, lowering his arm so the letter dangles in front of my face.
“My mom.” It isn’t real. It can’t be real. But that’s her handwriting. I touched those pages, felt them, and even felt the indentation from the pen like she was pressing hard on the paper. It’s real. I can’t deny it.
“Are you all right?” Lucas crouches in front of me. “Delilah. Talk to me.”
“Lies. So many lies. My whole life, nobody was ever honest with me.” I look around, a bitter laugh tearing itself from my chest. “And this is where he made us live. Where he hid us. He took advantage of her love for me by threatening to kill me if his dirty secret ever got out.”
“I think we should leave.”
I barely remember why I wanted to come anymore. It seemed important, didn’t it? I was ready to stomp my feet and hold my breath until my face turned blue. Now I wish I had never thought of it.
Then again, I wouldn’t have known the truth. I might have come back here one day and found an entirely different family living here. And that would have been it.
“But what’s the point of knowing the truth if there’s nothing I can do about it now?” I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but now that I have, Lucas begins rubbing my back. I wish it didn’t feel so good. I want to brush him off and tell him to spend his sympathy elsewhere. That I don’t need it.
“I will say one thing.” He stands, taking his comfort away. “This all seems a little too convenient. She suddenly takes too many pills? Did you ever know her to take pills?”
“No. She wasn’t on anything I was aware of. But then, who knows, she could have been taking something.” I look up at him, confused. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying there was a reason she felt like she had to hide this letter—and a reason she felt like she had to write it in the first place. Which tells me we’d better get out of here sooner rather than later, just in case.”
