He Married My Best Friend While I Gave Birth, So I Left novel · Chapter 33 of 48

Chapter 33: The Backpack

I held the envelope in my hand for a long time, and I did not open it.

Byron came out onto the porch behind me and stood very still.

"That's her paper," he said. "That's her hand."

"It's addressed to Ray."

"Brady swore he hadn't talked to her."

"He looked at you when he said it," I said. "I told you that part of his face never lies about lying."

Byron took a breath through his nose and let it out slowly.

"Read it," he said. "We have to know."

"No."

"Lacey."

"Every adult in that boy's life has read something he wasn't supposed to see, or kept something from him he should have had," I said. "I'm not doing it. It's his. We'll give it back with the flap still sealed."

Byron looked at the letter, and then at me.

"All right," he said. "We take it to him."

"Tomorrow. He's had a day. He'll want one more."

We drove up on Sunday morning with Poppy in her car seat and the backpack on the floor between my feet.

The orange notice was still taped to Tara's door, and now there was a second one beneath it.

Three cardboard boxes stood in the hall beside the mat, taped shut, with words on them in black marker.

Kitchen. Winter. Cal.

Tara opened the door in a faded T-shirt with her hair down, and she looked more tired than she had on my lawn.

"He won't talk to anybody," she said. "He went out running last night, and he slept in his clothes."

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