Part 2: My hands shook so badly I dropped the key twice.
When I finally lifted the door, I froze.
Inside was no furniture. No boxes. No old decorations.
Only a folding chair, a lantern, three jugs of water, a legal file box, and my mother’s navy handbag. Mother-daughterjewelry
The same handbag police said had been found with her.
An envelope was taped to it.
My name was written across the front in her handwriting.
For Emily. If you’re reading this, they lied to you first.
Then, behind me, tires crunched over gravel.
The funeral director found me standing away from everyone else, near the edge of my mother’s grave. DNAtest kits
At first, I thought he had come to offer condolences.
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