Chapter 16: The Shoebox

Hanna's POV

Jude carried the suitcase up the porch steps and set it down beside the door.

"She's all yours," he said.

"Thank you."

"Sure."

He went down the steps and across the lawn without looking back.

I stood there with my mouth open on the next thing I meant to say.

Frances had the kitchen light on.

She had made tea, and cut bread, and put three cups on the table without being asked.

Joelle sat down in the chair she had sat in every morning for three years.

Then she seemed to realize it, and stood up again.

"Sit," Frances said. "You're carrying. I don't care what else you are."

Joelle sat.

I stayed on my feet by the stove.

"Tell me what you have," I said.

She unzipped the lining of her suitcase and took out a thick brown envelope with the corner soft from handling.

"In September he started deleting things," she said.

"He'd read a message and it would be gone. I got scared, so I went to the library and printed them."

"All of them?"

"Sixty-one pages. My mother's had them since October. I didn't tell her what they were."

She slid the envelope across the table to me and took her hands off it quickly.

I did not want to touch it.

I opened it anyway.

The first page was from March.

*She took it again today. Eleven in the morning, with orange juice. Don't worry about the clinic.*

I read it standing, and then I read the next one.

*She cried in the car again. It's almost over, I promise you. A few more months and I'll tell her.*

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