PART 2: THE UNSPOKEN SHADOW
My knees felt weak as I stood on the porch, staring into the face of a total stranger who spoke as if she shared a whole life with my husband.
“He told me nothing,” I whispered, my voice barely carrying over the quiet rustle of the surrounding trees. “He only asked me to deliver that letter.”
The woman stepped back from the doorway, holding the wooden frame with a pale, trembling hand, and motioned for me to come inside.
The interior of her cottage was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and resting on a small side table was a framed black-and-white photograph of a young boy with Zane’s distinct, dark eyes.
My chest tightened as my mind raced through thirty-four years of shared memories, wondering how such a profound truth could have been hidden right before my eyes.
“My name is Eleanor,” she said softly, wiping a stray tear from her cheek as she placed the open letter onto the coffee table between us.
“And thirty-five years ago, before Zane ever met you, he made a sacrifice that cost him the only other thing he loved.”
(A thirty-year-old secret is about to rewrite everything! Click “Next Page” to continue reading…)
