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It’s a piece of paper. It’s not going to actually hurt me.
“But what if it does?” Allison asks. “What if it does?”
I didn’t think I said that aloud, but apparently, I did. It doesn’t change the way I feel, though. What if the contents hurt me in some way?
It could.
Opening the envelope, I hold my breath for a moment, then let it out slowly as I pull the folded piece of paper out. Opening it, I find a newspaper article. Sliding my tongue along my bottom lip, I stare at the words.
“It’s the news article from when my parents were killed,” I murmur.
Allison reaches for it and scans the worn words. She lifts her gaze, her eyes finding mine. “What does this mean?” she asks. “Why would someone send this to you?”
Shaking my head, I look at the other paper, the one that was wrapped around the article. It’s a typed-out note. It’s just a few lines that cause me to pause.
I don’t know what to do or say.
Taking my phone out of my back pocket, I open up the camera and take a picture before I attach it to a text and send it to Wells.
Allison takes it out of my hand once I’m finished and reads it out loud to me.
Ask your fiancé’s father who killed your parents.
He knows.
“What does this mean?” Allison asks again.
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
The phone alerts me to a new notification, and I slide my thumb across the screen to see what Wells has to say.
WELLS: IGNORE THAT SHIT. I’LL BE HOME SOON.
“He said to ignore it,” I mutter as I lift my gaze to Allison.
Her eyes are wide, and she sinks her teeth into the corner of her lip. I watch her for a moment, then suck in a breath before I let it out. She shrugs a shoulder before she speaks.
“You know what? Some people just don’t want others to be happy. Some people are just assholes, and your old boss, he was one of those, I think. He was causing problems, right?”
“He was,” I whisper.
“Well, then. I bet this was him. What a dick.”
What a dick is right. I know that nobody down there had any idea about what had happened to me, but he made a big deal about having security watch me empty my desk and then made them escort me out of the building. It was so humiliating.
Deciding that I don’t want to make a big deal about it, I respond to Wells’s text.
Don’t worry about it. I think I know who sent it. I’m pretty sure it was Eira.
WELLS: I’LL HANDLE IT, CUPCAKE. LOVE YOU.
I love you, too, Wells. So much.
Setting my phone down, I smile across the table at Allison and ask her to help me with this wedding stuff. It takes my mind off that note, off that article, but I can’t stop thinking about Eira and wondering why he would care enough to even send it to me.
Why is he trying to hurt me like that?
What is the point of it?
