me just a few hours later, I might
never have returned home so peacefully.
That evening, after all the guests had left, my mother was in the kitchen when my father approached me.
“Emily, can you come to my bedroom for a minute?”
“Why, Dad?”
He glanced toward the kitchen.
“We need to talk privately.”
His voice was so serious that my smile disappeared.
I followed him upstairs. As soon as we entered the room, he closed the door.
Then he turned toward me and said a sentence I still remember word for word.
“Emily, whatever happens next, your mother must never know. You’re eighteen now. It’s time.”
My heart began pounding.
“What isn’t Mom supposed to know?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he walked to the wardrobe, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a black bag.
I had never seen it before.
