Chapter 3 - THE PHOTOGRAPH BEHIND THE BLUE LINING
“Where did you get that note?”
Victoria's question came so quickly that Nathan barely recognized her voice.
Olivia pulled the jewelry box closer to her chest.
“It's Mommy's.”
“I know that, sweetheart,” Victoria said. “But that doesn't mean you should go through everything inside it.”
Nathan held up his hand.
“Victoria. Stop.”
Edward Ashford moved nearer.
His eyes were fixed on the small wooden box.
“Nathan, perhaps this isn't something to examine in front of Olivia.”
Nathan looked at his future father-in-law.
“My daughter brought me something that belonged to her mother. She has every right to be here.”
Olivia climbed onto a nearby chair.
She kept the box in her lap.
Nathan knelt beside her.
“May I look underneath the lining?”
She nodded.
“Just don't tear it. Mommy made it pretty.”
He smiled faintly.
“I'll be careful.”
The blue velvet lining had loosened along one corner.
Nathan lifted it gently.
Beneath it was a narrow envelope, yellowed with age.
He carefully removed the contents.
A photograph.
Three women stood outside a modest brick building, smiling into the afternoon sunlight.
Nathan immediately recognized Grace.
She looked younger, perhaps twenty-six, wearing jeans and a cream sweater.
Beside her stood a middle-aged woman with dark hair.
The third was a teenage girl.
Nathan's hands became still.
The teenager had the same expressive brown eyes as Lily Morgan.
The same gentle smile.
The same small dimple near her left cheek.
On the back of the photograph, Grace had written:
Grace Blackwood, Eleanor Morgan, and Lily Morgan.
September 2015. The first day of the listening program.
Nathan stared at the date.
Eleven years ago.
Grace had known Lily before Nathan even married her.
“What listening program?” he asked.
Edward looked away.
Victoria crossed her arms.
“Grace supported dozens of charities. Why should one photograph matter?”
“Because she left instructions about it.”
Nathan stood.
“Edward, did you know these people?”
Edward hesitated.
“I knew Grace was involved with a community hearing program.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Edward sighed.
“Yes. I met Eleanor Morgan once.”
Victoria turned sharply toward her father.
“Dad.”
Nathan noticed.
“What happened to her?”
Edward seemed to measure his answer.
“She died several years ago.”
Nathan looked again at the photograph.
Eleanor's smile was warm and unmistakably proud as she stood beside her daughter.
“Was Lily's mother connected to my family?”
Edward rubbed his forehead.
“Not exactly.”
“Then explain.”
Before Edward could answer, Olivia spoke.
“Daddy, Lily told me her mommy liked blue flowers.”
Nathan looked at the little jewelry box.
There were six faded blue flowers painted across the lid.
“Did Lily paint this?”
“No. Mommy did.”
Nathan's chest tightened.
Grace had been an art teacher before their marriage.
She painted flowers on almost everything.
Birthday cards.
Kitchen cabinets.
Olivia's nursery walls.
Even the inside of Nathan's desk drawer.
It had been her way of leaving little pieces of herself around the house.
“Where did you find the box?” he asked Olivia.
“In my closet.”
“Has it always been there?”
Olivia shook her head.
“Victoria put it on the top shelf. She said Mommy's things made the house look sad.”
Victoria stiffened.
“I was helping her move forward.”
Olivia stared at her.
“I don't want to move forward without Mommy.”
Nathan felt the words like a physical blow.
He had spent four years trying to protect his daughter from grief.
Now he realized that some of his decisions had only taught her to hide it.
He kissed the top of her head.
“You don't have to forget your mother.”
Olivia leaned against him.
Victoria looked away.
For the first time, something resembling discomfort crossed her face.
Nathan turned to Edward.
“I want you and Victoria to leave tonight.”
Edward nodded slowly.
“I think that's wise.”
Victoria opened her mouth.
Her father touched her arm.
“Come along.”
But Nathan wasn't finished.
“And I want an explanation about that school complaint tomorrow.”
Victoria's expression tightened.
“You have the letter.”
“I want to hear from the school.”
Her father guided her toward the hallway.
At the doorway, Edward paused.
“Nathan, there are things about Grace's charity work you may not understand.”
“Then tell me.”
Edward shook his head.
“Not in front of your daughter.”
Nathan's patience finally snapped.
“You've both used that excuse enough tonight.”
Edward looked at the photograph.
Then he left without another word.
After they were gone, Nathan took Olivia upstairs.
He let her keep the jewelry box.
He sat beside her bed while she arranged the silver bracelet on her nightstand.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Did Mommy know Lily?”
“It looks that way.”
“Does Lily know?”
“I don't know.”
Olivia considered this.
“Can we ask her?”
“We will.”
The little girl hesitated.
“Are you mad at Lily?”
Nathan shook his head.
“No, sweetheart.”
“Good.”
She settled beneath the blanket.
“She's my favorite grown-up after you.”
Nathan smiled sadly.
For months, he had believed Victoria was becoming the maternal presence Olivia needed.
Yet when his daughter was frightened or lonely, she didn't run to Victoria.
She ran to a twenty-four-year-old housemaid who had taught her that being different didn't mean being less.
After Olivia fell asleep, Nathan went downstairs.
He found Lily in the small staff sitting room.
She was seated beside a lamp, examining the damaged hearing aid.
A tiny screwdriver rested on the table.
Nathan approached from the front so she could see him.
She immediately stood.
“Mr. Blackwood.”
“Please sit.”
He waited until she was facing him.
Then he held out the photograph.
Lily's expression changed before he said anything.
Her fingers rose to her mouth.
“Where did you get that?”
“It was inside Grace's jewelry box.”
Lily took the photograph.
For a long moment, she said nothing.
Then she pressed it gently against her chest.
“That's my mother.”
“I know.”
Lily's eyes filled.
“I haven't seen this picture in years.”
Nathan sat opposite her.
“Did you know my wife?”
Lily nodded.
“She helped me when I was thirteen.”
“How?”
Lily glanced toward the damaged hearing aid.
“My mother couldn't afford the specialist appointments I needed. Mrs. Blackwood helped us find a program.”
Nathan stared at her.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Lily looked uncomfortable.
“Because I wasn't sure you'd want me working here if you knew.”
“Why would I object?”
She lowered the photograph.
“Because my mother and Mrs. Blackwood had a disagreement before she died.”
Nathan leaned forward.
“What kind of disagreement?”
Lily hesitated.
“I was young. My mother wouldn't tell me everything.”
“Tell me what you remember.”
Lily looked toward the door.
Then she spoke quietly.
“My mother believed money meant for children with hearing disabilities was disappearing.”
Nathan felt a cold sensation settle in his stomach.
“From Grace's program?”
Lily nodded.
“She said someone important was taking it.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Nathan looked at the photograph.
The foundation had been administered through Ashford Community Holdings.
Edward Ashford had managed its finances.
Victoria had helped organize several fundraisers.
“Did Grace believe your mother?”
Lily's eyes filled again.
“She did.”
“How do you know?”
“Because two weeks before my mother died, Mrs. Blackwood gave her something to keep safe.”
Nathan's heartbeat quickened.
“What?”
Lily hesitated.
“A silver key.”
Nathan frowned.
“A key to what?”
“My mother never told me.”
“Do you still have it?”
Lily nodded slowly.
“It's sewn inside the lining of my winter coat.”
Nathan stared at her.
“Why would you keep it there?”
“Because my mother made me promise never to let the Ashford family find it.”
Then Lily reached for the photograph.
Her fingertips brushed against the lower corner.
“Wait,” she whispered.
Nathan followed her gaze.
There was something written beneath the photograph's paper border.
Lily carefully lifted it.
A second message appeared, in Grace's handwriting.
Eleanor was right. The money wasn't the only thing they stole. Ask about the children whose records were changed.
Nathan felt the room tilt.
He looked toward Lily.
May you like
And the young woman who had entered his house as a quiet maid whispered something that frightened him more than anything he had heard that night.
“My mother said one of those children was me.”
