Chapter 7 - THE BOX BENEATH THE BED
Adeline kept her mother's belongings in a battered cardboard box beneath her bed.
Inside were birthday cards, a faded nursing badge, a small Bible, a wedding photograph, and a collection of handwritten recipes.
She hadn't opened it in months.
The memories hurt too much.
Now she carried it to the kitchen table.
Posy sat beside her.
"Are we looking at Mommy's things?"
Adeline nodded.
"Yes."
Posy reached for a photograph.
Their mother stood in a hospital corridor, smiling beside three other nurses.
Posy touched her face.
"She looks happy."
Adeline swallowed.
"She was."
They went through the box slowly.
At the bottom lay an envelope addressed to Adeline.
She froze.
She had never noticed it.
The paper was yellowed.
Her mother's handwriting covered the front.
FOR ADDIE—WHEN YOU'RE READY.
Adeline's hands trembled.
She opened it.
Inside was a letter.
My darling girl,
If you're reading this, I hope you have finally learned to rest.
You have always tried to carry everyone.
But love should never require you to disappear.
Adeline pressed her lips together.
Tears blurred the page.
The letter continued.
There is something I need you to understand about the last months of my life. I became involved in a situation at the hospital that frightened me. I reported what I knew to the proper people, but I was never certain who I could trust.
If anyone ever approaches you about the Castellano family, do not answer questions alone. Find independent legal help.
Adeline's breath caught.
At the bottom, her mother had written a name.
MARIA ESTEBAN.
And beneath it:
PATIENT ADVOCACY OFFICE—SAINT CATHERINE'S.
Adeline stared.
Her mother had left her a warning.
Not money.
Not a hidden fortune.
May you like
A name.
A person she had believed might help.
