Chapter 12 - The Box in the Banker's Box
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Two days later, Sarah came over to the apartment carrying a heavy cardboard banker’s box labeled: ESTATE OF DANIEL MERCER.
She placed it on the dining table and pulled out a stack of manila folders.
“Now that you’re settled, Elena, there’s something else we need to address,” Sarah said, her tone cautious. “While preparing the evidence for Detective Hale, I went through your father’s personal safe deposit box at the bank.”
“Did you find something?” I asked.
Sarah reached into the banker's box and pulled out a sealed, yellowed envelope. Across the front, written in my father’s precise, bold handwriting, was my name: ELENA.
“He left this with instructions that it only be opened if you ever faced a legal challenge regarding the Hawthorne Lane property,” Sarah said, handing the envelope to me.
My fingers trembled as I touched my father's handwriting. The ink was slightly faded, dated eight months before he passed away.
“Why didn't he give this to me before he died?” I asked softly.
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“Your father loved you deeply, Elena,” Sarah replied gently. “But he knew that sometimes, children have to see things with their own eyes before they can accept the truth about the people they love. Read it.”
I broke the wax seal on the back of the envelope and pulled out a five-page handwritten letter.
