Chapter 2 - THE BLUE BOX
Robert stepped into the doorway, blocking Cassandra’s view of Ellen.
“What exactly do you think my wife has?”
Cassandra adjusted the strap of her handbag.
“A personal document.”
“What kind of document?”
“That is between Ellen and me.”
“Nothing is between you and my wife at twelve thirty in the morning.”
Cassandra’s eyes hardened.
“With respect, Robert, you don’t understand what is happening.”
“Then explain it.”
She looked past him again.
“Ellen, where is the letter?”
Ellen gripped the banister.
“I told you. I don’t know.”
“You carried it into my wedding.”
“I intended to give it to Michael.”
“You intended to destroy him.”
Robert turned toward Ellen.
“What was in that letter?”
Cassandra laughed softly.
“She hasn’t told you?”
“This conversation is over,” Ellen said.
She began climbing the stairs.
Cassandra stepped forward, but Robert did not move.
“Get out of my way.”
“You are standing in my house.”
“And your wife has stolen something that could ruin my marriage.”
Robert studied her.
“You’ve been married for two days.”
“Exactly.”
Cassandra’s composure cracked for the first time.
“If that letter reaches Michael, everything we built will collapse.”
Ellen stopped halfway up the stairs.
“He already knows enough.”
“No, he knows what you told him in the hallway. He does not know the rest.”
Robert’s attention sharpened.
“What rest?”
Neither woman answered.
Robert closed the front door behind Cassandra, trapping her inside the foyer.
“No one leaves until somebody tells me the truth.”
Cassandra looked almost amused.
“You think this is your family crisis, Robert. It isn’t.”
“My wife was injured at your wedding.”
“She fell.”
Robert moved closer.
“Did you see her fall?”
Cassandra held his gaze.
“Yes.”
“Did Michael touch her?”
A pause.
“He tried to stop her from entering the ballroom.”
“How?”
“She became hysterical.”
Ellen turned on the stairs.
“That is a lie.”
Cassandra’s eyes narrowed.
“You cornered my husband minutes before our first dance.”
“I tried to protect him.”
“From what?”
“From you.”
The silence that followed felt electric.
Cassandra took one step toward the staircase.
“Be careful, Ellen.”
“You came into my home to threaten me?”
“I came to recover what you stole.”
“I wrote the letter.”
“But the evidence attached to it belongs to my family.”
Robert looked from one woman to the other.
“What evidence?”
Cassandra opened her handbag and removed a photograph.
She placed it on the entry table.
Robert picked it up.
The image was old and faded. It showed a younger Ellen standing outside a small brick building beside another woman. Between them was a baby wrapped in a yellow blanket.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written a date.
Thirty-one years earlier.
The year Michael was born.
Robert felt the room tilt.
“Who is the other woman?”
Ellen descended one step.
“Her name was Margaret Vale.”
“Was?”
“She died six years ago.”
Robert studied the infant.
“Is that Michael?”
Ellen nodded.
Cassandra folded her arms.
“Ask your wife why Michael was photographed with my mother.”
Robert looked sharply at her.
“Margaret Vale was your mother?”
“Yes.”
Ellen came down the remaining stairs.
“Cassandra, don’t.”
“You should have thought of that before you brought the letter.”
Robert could hear his heartbeat.
“What does your mother have to do with Michael?”
Cassandra’s answer was immediate.
“Everything.”
Ellen reached for the photograph, but Robert held it away.
“No. I want the truth.”
Cassandra smiled without warmth.
“Your wife and my mother made an agreement thirty-one years ago.”
“What agreement?”
Ellen’s face crumpled.
Cassandra looked directly at Robert.
“They agreed that Michael would never learn which one of them gave birth to him.”
Robert stared at her.
Then he looked at Ellen.
For several seconds, he could not speak.
Finally, he whispered, “What is she saying?”
Ellen’s tears began to fall.
“Robert…”
“Is Michael not your biological son?”
Cassandra answered for her.
“He is Ellen’s son.”
Confusion surged through Robert.
“Then what is the secret?”
Cassandra glanced at the photograph.
“My mother did not give birth to Michael.”
Robert waited.
Cassandra’s voice lowered.
“She gave birth to another baby in the same clinic on the same night.”
Ellen closed her eyes.
Robert looked again at the infant in the photograph.
“What happened to that child?”
Cassandra’s expression changed.
For the first time, she seemed afraid.
“That is what the letter reveals.”
Robert gripped the photograph.
“Where is it?”
Cassandra looked toward Ellen.
“That is the question.”
A sudden sound came from upstairs.
A floorboard creaked.
All three of them looked toward the landing.
Robert knew no one else was supposed to be in the house.
He moved toward the staircase.
“Who’s up there?”
No answer.
Then a bedroom door closed softly.
Cassandra reached into her handbag.
Robert turned.
“What are you doing?”
She removed her phone.
“I’m calling Michael.”
Ellen rushed forward.
“No.”
Cassandra stepped away.
“He deserves to know someone is inside this house searching for the same letter.”
Robert froze.
“The same letter?”
Cassandra looked at him.
“You still think I’m the only person who wants it?”
Before Robert could ask another question, the lights went out.
The foyer fell into darkness.
Ellen screamed.
A heavy crash sounded upstairs.
Robert ran toward the staircase.
By the time the emergency lights flickered on, the front door stood open.
May you like
Cassandra was gone.
And so was the photograph.
