Dahlia was now past empty; there was no more energy for show and tell. Not about the secrets shared between two sisters, not about Gene, not about the key she’d finally found. And certainly not that she’d fallen hard and fast for a younger man.
“I’ve gotta go anyway,” Daisy said with a pinched expression.
“Love you.”
“You too. Bye.”
If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. Dahlia felt like she was dodging bullets from every angle.
She knew she should feel more guilt over upsetting Daisy. But she didn’t. And for that reason alone, she sighed and looked out the window. It was as if someone opened the door to possibility the minute she arrived at Lil’s, and she willingly walked right through it. She was proud of herself for that, at least. No matter what happened with Noah, she had no regrets.
Finally, the bank employee was outside putting the bank sign on the curb. She took a swig of summer air and opened her car door. It was now or never.
“Good morning,” she said, feeling her insides toss like an overloaded washing machine. This was it. So much was riding on this moment.
“Beautiful day.” He held the door for her. “What can I help you with today?”
“I have a safe deposit key. I would like to open my aunt’s box.”
“Do you have the paperwork?”
“No, I don’t. Just a number. Is that a problem?” Dahlia asked the gray-haired, stocky man named Jim.
“I’ll have to see your license to ensure you’re a co-owner.”
Co-owner?Her posture caved as she slid him her license. Of course, it was another setback.Please, please, she prayed. If I don’t see what’s in that box, I’ll …
“Let’s see here. Lily Prescott. And you’re …” He looked at the license. “Dahlia Newberry.” He looked up. “Someone liked flowers, didn’t they?”
Chills ran up her spine. “Yeah, and my mother’s name is Rose.”We were named after the flowers in Lil’s garden.
Suddenly, she wasn’t mad or powerless. She was heartbroken. Heartbroken for a life Lil had felt she needed to hide.
“Hold on.” He typed away. “Almost there.”
Dahlia held her breath.
“Yup, you’re on here.”
Dahlia exhaled. “Wonderful.” Inside, she was a bundle of tightly wound nerves. This was it, just a few more minutes until the truth would set her free.
He passed her a card. “Just sign and we’re all set.”
She signed her name and slapped the pen against the hard surface.
“You can follow me.” He waved her down a bright and narrow hallway. “I’ll need to open it with you, with my key.”
Dahlia followed him, squinting as her mind ran wild. What if Lil’s reason wasn’t good enough? What did she want to hear? That Lil lied because she had no other choice? Yes, that was what she wanted to hear.
They scanned the wall of metal for the number 222 and spotted it right in the middle. They entered their keys simultaneously, and it opened. She breathed a sigh of relief. If that wasn’t the key, she may have gone a lifetime without knowing what was inside.
She followed Jim down the hall into a private room. He set the box on the counter-height table, and Dahlia thanked him. Once he left, she unlatched the clasp and lifted up the top.
There was a stack of black-and-white composition books with a letter addressed to Dahlia on top.Her journals.Her eyes widened, remembering Lil writing in these books when she was a kid. She presumed it was just daily reminders, recipes, or garden notes. An image popped into her mind of Lil in the pantry, with her lilac handkerchief wrapped around her head, sitting on the sill, writing in one of these books. The pulse in her neck quickened as she pulled the contents from the box.
Dahlia walked down the hospital-like hallway, hearing the squeak of her soles against the vinyl tile. Her sweaty palms gripped the cardboard covers, and her chest pounded as she walked to her car. This was the moment she’d anticipated from the instant she found Lil’s first communication from beyond the grave. The veil was about to be lifted, and all the pretexts revealed.
Dahlia opened her car door, pushed back her seat, and slid her fingers under the envelope flap. There were two folded sheets of paper inside. With unsteady hands, she opened the official-looking one with the embossed seal first. She gasped. It was her mother’s original birth certificate from 1956. It read mother: Lily Ann Prescott, and father: Gene Frank Obermann. Under the child’s name, it read Rose Ingrid Obermann.
