I asked Patricia to explain everything she knew.
She took a moment before answering.
"Elora first came to me about a month before she moved into your house."
I looked at her.
"Why?"
"She said she needed someone to hold on to a few personal things."
"What kind of things?"
"She didn't explain much."
Patricia glanced at the shoebox.
"She only said they were important and that she didn't want them getting into the wrong hands."
I looked at the envelopes.
"Why didn't she ask one of her children?"
Patricia gave me a sad smile.
"Maybe she didn't trust them."
That answer made me uncomfortable.
I knew Elora had been disappointed by her children.
But I had never thought she would go so far as to keep important things away from them.
I picked up the notebook again.
This time, I examined the dates more carefully.
The first entry was written almost two months earlier.
There were several notes about phone calls.
One mentioned a conversation with Shane.
Another mentioned visiting her own house.
Then there was a date that I recognized.
It was the day Elora had called me.
Beside it, she had written something short.
Contact her.
I stared at those two words.
It felt strange seeing my name reduced to a note in someone else's plan.
I had thought that phone call was spontaneous.
I had thought she had reached out because she was frightened and needed help.
Now I wasn't sure.
"Did she tell you she had broken her leg?"
Patricia nodded.
"Yes."
"Did you know she was going to ask me to take her in?"
"Not at first."
I looked at her.
"What happened?"
"She came to see me after the accident. She was upset about her children refusing to help. She mentioned that she might need somewhere else to stay."
"And you suggested me?"
Patricia hesitated.
"No. She mentioned you herself."
I lowered my eyes.
Of course she had.
"Did she explain why?"
"She said you were the only person she felt she could trust."
That should have made me feel better.
Instead, it made my chest ache.
I had believed our relationship had survived because we genuinely cared about one another.
I still wanted to believe that.
But the notebook was making it difficult.
I turned another page.
There were notes about my work schedule.
One mentioned that I usually left the house before nine.
Another mentioned that I sometimes returned around five.
Then I found a note about the spare bedroom.
I remembered Elora looking around that room when she first arrived.
She had asked whether I had always used it for guests.
I had told her it was mostly empty.
Now that conversation seemed important.
I looked at Patricia.
"Did she ask you anything about my house?"
Patricia nodded.
"She asked whether the front of your house was visible from my garden."
I went still.
"What?"
"She wanted to know whether I could see your front entrance."
I looked toward the window.
Patricia lived nearby.
From certain angles, she could see part of my driveway.
I had never thought much about it.
"Why would she ask you that?"
"I didn't know."
"Did you tell her?"
"Yes. I told her I could see the driveway from my kitchen window."
I leaned back.
I could hardly process it.
The questions about my schedule.
The way she reacted when I returned early.
The notes in the notebook.
Now even the view from Patricia's house had been discussed.
I rubbed my forehead.
"Did you ever see Elora doing anything unusual while she was here?"
Patricia shook her head.
"Not directly."
"Then what made you bring this box to me?"
She looked toward the front door.
"Because I saw something this morning."
I sat up.
"What?"
"After you took Elora home, I noticed a car parked near her house."
I waited.
"It was there for quite a while. Then I saw someone leave carrying a folder."
"Who?"
"I couldn't tell from where I was standing."
She paused.
"But I recognized the car."
I frowned.
"Whose?"
"Shane's."
I looked away.
For several seconds, I didn't speak.
I had asked Elora not to discuss Shane.
She had respected that boundary for five years.
Now his name had appeared in the notebook.
And Patricia had seen his car outside Elora's home on the same day she moved out of mine.
I didn't know what to think.
"Did he go inside?"
"I believe so."
"Are you sure?"
"I saw someone open the front door. I couldn't see the person's face."
I nodded slowly.
There was a long silence.
Then I picked up another envelope.
This one was thicker.
My name wasn't written on it.
Instead, it had a date.
I recognized the date as the first week of Elora's stay.
I opened it.
Inside were several handwritten pages.
The first page contained a list of household details.
Some were ordinary.
The location of the medicine.
The name of her doctor.
The dates of appointments.
But near the bottom was a note about the front door.
I read it twice.
Then I looked at Patricia.
"Did Elora ever ask you to watch my house?"
Patricia looked uncomfortable.
"Yes."
My stomach dropped.
"What do you mean?"
"She asked me to let her know if anyone came while you were away."
I stared at her.
"Anyone?"
"She didn't give me a name."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Patricia lowered her eyes.
"At the time, I thought she was worried about something."
I stood up.
I walked toward the window.
Outside, the street looked exactly as it always had.
A car passed.
Someone was watering plants across the road.
Nothing seemed different.
But I felt as though I had lost the ability to look at my own home in the same way.
I turned back.
"Did you agree to watch?"
Patricia nodded reluctantly.
"Only because I thought it was about keeping your house safe."
I stared at her.
"And did anyone come?"
She took a moment.
"Not that I noticed."
I sat down again.
The shoebox was becoming harder to look at.
I had invited Elora into my home because I cared about her.
I had not asked what she was planning.
I had not expected to be monitored.
And I certainly hadn't expected my neighbor to be involved in some arrangement I knew nothing about.
I picked up the notebook one more time.
Near the back was a page with several dates.
The last one was the morning Elora moved out.
Beside it were three words.
Everything is ready.
I felt a chill.
"What does that mean?"
Patricia looked at the page.
"I don't know."
I closed the notebook.
For the first time, I wondered whether Elora had been waiting for something to happen during those four weeks.
And whether it had already happened.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: Patricia Told Me About the Day Elora First Visited Her, and I Began to Understand Why My Former Mother-in-Law Had Been So Careful
I Thought I Was Simply Helping a Woman Who Had Never Stopped Treating Me Like Family, But Something About Her Request Stayed With Me
Part 6 of 20
