Chapter 9 – "My Mom Begged Me to Come Home. I Knew It Was a Trap. I Went Anyway."
The next morning, Evie received a letter.
It was delivered to the shelter by a courier. The envelope was thick, cream-colored, with the Vance family crest embossed on the front.
Her heart stopped when she saw it.
She opened the envelope with trembling hands. Inside was a letter, handwritten in her mother's elegant script.
Dearest Evie,
I know you don't want to hear from me right now. I know you think we did something terrible. But please, please, give me a chance to explain. There's so much you don't know about our family. So much I've been hiding from you. Come to the house tomorrow at noon. We can talk. I promise I'll tell you everything. Your father doesn't know I'm writing this. Please come.
With all my love,
Mom
Evie read the letter three times. Her mother had never written her a letter before. She'd always communicated through texts or emails—short, efficient messages that never said anything important.
This was different. This was desperate.
"Don't go," Miriam said, reading over her shoulder. "It's a trap."
"It doesn't feel like a trap."
"Of course it doesn't. That's how traps work." Miriam's voice was sharp. "Your mother locked you in a burning room. She's not going to suddenly decide to tell you the truth. She's trying to lure you somewhere private."
"But what if she's telling the truth? What if there's something I need to know?"
"Then she can tell you through her lawyer. Or through the detective. She doesn't need you to come to the house."
May you like
Evie thought about it. She knew Miriam was right. But there was something in her mother's letter that tugged at her—a note of genuine fear, maybe. Or genuine remorse.
She didn't know which was worse.
