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"I found something!" she exclaimed, rushing into his study past him and placing the box on his writing table, not caring that there were items on it, which she carelessly pushed to the side. Strangely, he also did not seem to mind. He was too curious regarding the mysterious box.
"Well, that makes one of us," he smiled. "I spent the whole day going through business documents and more books. I'm sorry to say that I have nothing to show for it."
He walked over to the box and eyed it intriguingly. It looked like just an ordinary box, but from the way she talked, he was certain that it contained something special, something that made Leah shout his name and run up to him.
"What did you find?" he wondered eagerly.
"This box contains my mother's old stuff," she explained. "Most of which you wouldn't be interested in. But... there is one thing that is bound to capture your attention."
She opened the box and extracted what appeared to be a leather notebook. Immediately, his interest piqued.
"Is that what I think it is?" he asked, pointing at the notebook.
"Yes," she nodded, her eyes wide and beaming. "This is my mother's diary. I found it with her old stuff in the attic. I brought it here so we can go over it together. I figured, maybe some things might make sense to you if they don't make sense to me."
He had to admit that he wasn't expecting her to do this. He wondered how she didn't succumb to the temptation to read through the whole thing right then and there. He knew that he would be tempted to do so. He wasn't sure if he would have been able to wait for so long to discover what answers might be hiding inside the covers of that diary.
"We need to go through the whole thing," she told him, as she took a seat on the sofa by the window. "Slowly and patiently."
He was more than ready to make that sacrifice. "I have been meaning to take care of some correspondence, but this is far too important." He got comfortable close to her on the sofa, then gazed at her. "Since this is your mother's diary, you may do the honor of reading the first pages aloud."
He could see how important this was to her, to them both. When he noticed that her hands were trembling as she held the diary, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to himself. She looked up. He could see a glimmer of tears in her eyes.
"It will be all right, Leah, I promise," he smiled. "Even if there is nothing inside this diary but words of your mother how much she loved you and your father, it is still something to rejoice over."
Two stray tears rolled down her cheeks. "Thank you... " her voice was on the verge of breaking, "thank you for always knowing what to say."
He smiled, watching her wipe those tears with her sleeves, almost like a little street urchin, not caring the least bit about manners and propriety. This was just one of the things he loved about her. She did what felt good and right. She wasn't concerned about others' opinion of her. This helped him get out of his shell as well, and now he found himself on this path, along with her.
She opened the first page and read the date. It was two years before her untimely death. Leah started to read. "Today, I helped someone. That in itself should be enough to make me feel good, but I always feel that there is more we can do. There are so many people in dire distress and need, and we should never turn our heads away from them, because we never know when we might find ourselves in that same situation." Leah stopped reading. She seemed to be pondering her mother's words. She turned to Edward. "Do you think she already knew she was in trouble, and this was her way of silently asking for help?"
"I doubt your mother did anything silently," he assured her. "If she needed help, she would not hesitate to ask for it."
"You are right," she nodded.
Then, she continued to read. The next several pages went along the same lines, where her mother kept mentioning the people she had helped, mostly women with abusive husbands who thought it was all right to raise one's hands to a woman. Edward could never understand that. Even listening to such stories made him angry. Still, he tried to remain calm.
Page after page was read, and still there was nothing new, nothing regarding her connection with Edward's parents or the mysterious man. Then, finally, while it was Edward's turn to read, they stumbled onto something interesting.
"Listen to this," he said, with his index finger pointing at the lines in question, which he was about to read. "I have stumbled ontothis man'sname several times already, in my dealings with those who are considered to be unworthy of mention by the high society." Edward knew who those might be. The gamblers, the drunkards, sometimes even just being poor was enough to put one on this undesirable list. Heck, even he was on it now. Fortunately, he did not care about it one bit.
"Who is this man?" Leah immediately jumped.
"It doesn't say," he replied. "At least, not here. She continues to say,this manis the dark overlord pulling all the strings of the London underground crime life. He is the Devil in disguise, for those who know him, think him something completely other than what he truly is. A wolf in sheep's clothing." Edward paused to look at Leah, but he was certain that just like to him, these words made very little sense. "Do you know who she could be talking about?" he wondered, his finger still lingering on the paper, as if afraid that if he stopped touching it, the ink might somehow disappear, and the secrets of the diary would be lost to them forever.
"No," Leah shook her head, with a look of deep pondering on her face. "I couldn't possibly imagine who she might be referring to. We need to keep reading to find out if she says his name somewhere."
"If she wanted to reveal who he was, she would have written down his name the first time she mentioned him," he pointed out.
"You're right," Leah nodded with a sigh. "But we're only halfway through the diary. Perhaps she gives a clue or a hint to his identity," she added hopefully.
To be quite honest, he doubted it. Her mother was a cautious woman. If she were on the trail of some important criminal who was desperate to keep his identity hidden, she wouldn't reveal it in her diary. She was far too clever for that. She would find some other way to reveal his identity, like Leah said, or she would plan on doing it herself at someone point publicly. Unfortunately, those plans would never come to fruition. But he did not want to tell Lean any of this, so he would not discourage her.
"Yes, we should keep on reading," he said instead.
The following two hours were spent in careful reading of the leftover entries of the diary, but apart from the man being mentioned a few more time, again very hazily, there was absolutely no indication as to who he was. However, there was something they could go on.
"This is an address," Edward said, after having it read out loud. "An address just outside of London."
