Elora arrived the following afternoon.
I hadn't invited her to stay.
I had simply agreed to meet.
She came in a taxi, carrying her familiar handbag.
Her walking had improved considerably.
She still moved carefully, but she no longer needed as much assistance.
I helped her sit in the living room.
Then I made tea.
Neither of us spoke immediately.
I placed her cup on the table.
"All right, Elora. I'm listening."
She looked at me.
"I owe you an apology."
I folded my hands.
"Yes, you do."
She nodded.
"I know."
For a moment, I saw the woman who had comforted me during my divorce.
Her eyes were tired.
Her hands were trembling.
But I couldn't allow sympathy to replace the answers I needed.
"Why did you choose my house?"
She looked down.
"Because Arthur trusted you."
I frowned.
"He barely knew me."
"He knew more than you think."
I waited.
Elora explained that Arthur had watched how I treated people during the years I was married to Shane.
He noticed that I was careful with money.
He noticed that I never pressured him for gifts.
And he remembered that I had once helped him organize some old family photographs when his eyesight was getting worse.
I vaguely remembered that afternoon.
Arthur had been sitting at the dining table.
I had helped him sort through several envelopes.
He had thanked me.
I hadn't thought anything of it.
Elora continued.
"He used to say you were honest."
I looked at her.
"That doesn't explain why he connected me to this house."
She nodded.
"You're right."
Then she told me about the arrangement.
Years earlier, Arthur and Helen's father had agreed to preserve certain records relating to the property.
Arthur had contributed money toward its restoration.
In exchange, he had been given certain rights connected to the building and its historical records.
The arrangement was never completed in the ordinary way.
Arthur wanted the original papers preserved because he believed later copies might cause confusion.
When he died, Elora was left trying to understand what had been agreed.
His children were given different explanations.
Over time, the family disagreement became worse.
"Why did your children disagree?"
Elora looked at her tea.
"Because they each believed they understood what their father wanted."
"Did they?"
"I don't think so."
She explained that Shane believed the agreement had been settled.
Melissa believed their mother had been promised certain protections.
Daniel simply wanted the matter finished.
But nobody seemed to have the complete original paperwork.
I listened.
Then I asked:
"What was your promise to Arthur?"
Elora's eyes filled.
"He asked me not to let the children divide everything before they understood what he had arranged."
I waited.
"He believed they would eventually disagree. He wanted me to protect the original documents until everyone had a chance to see them."
"And you didn't?"
"I tried."
She wiped her eyes.
"But after he died, everything became difficult. I was grieving. The children were arguing. I didn't know which papers were genuine copies and which ones were incomplete."
I felt sorry for her.
But I was still angry.
"Why did you wait five years?"
She looked at me.
"Because I couldn't find the room."
I remembered the hidden cabinet.
The number 214.
The covered entrance.
She explained that she had visited the house after Arthur died.
She had spoken with Helen's father.
But the renovation work had already hidden the entrance.
She had searched elsewhere.
She had asked questions.
Nothing helped.
Then she discovered that I had purchased the property.
She hoped I might eventually notice something unusual.
But she didn't want to involve me without knowing whether the papers were still there.
I looked at her.
"And the accident?"
She shook her head.
"The accident was real."
"I believe that."
"I really was frightened when I broke my leg."
I nodded.
"But when I realized I needed somewhere to recover, I thought about your house."
She admitted that she had deliberately chosen to ask me.
She believed I would let her stay.
She also believed that my work schedule would give her occasional opportunities to examine the bedroom.
I looked away.
"So you used my kindness."
She began crying.
"Yes."
I didn't comfort her.
Not immediately.
I needed her to understand that the answer mattered.
"I would probably have helped you anyway."
"I know."
"You could have told me."
"I was ashamed."
"Of what?"
She looked at me.
"Of involving you in a problem my own children had created."
I thought about that.
Then I asked:
"Did you believe Shane had done something wrong?"
Elora hesitated.
"I believed he had accepted a version of the agreement without checking the original."
"Did he know?"
"I think he knew there were missing details."
I stared at her.
"Then why did he tell me not to get involved?"
Elora looked frightened.
"Because he doesn't want the family to start arguing again."
I shook my head.
"That's not an answer."
She reached for her handbag.
Inside was a small folded photograph.
She placed it on the table.
It showed Arthur standing beside the old house.
He was younger.
Helen's father stood beside him.
Both men were smiling.
On the back was a handwritten date.
I recognized Arthur's signature.
Beneath it were five words.
Keep the original safe.
Elora touched the photograph.
"He gave me this shortly before he died."
I studied it.
"Why didn't you put it in the shoebox?"
"I wanted you to see it when I could explain."
I looked at her.
"Did you know what was inside the cabinet?"
"Not everything."
"Did you know about the letter?"
She nodded.
"I knew Arthur had written something for the children."
"Did you know it was still sealed?"
"No."
That answer seemed genuine.
I leaned back.
For the first time, I understood why she had been so desperate to find the documents.
But I also understood why she had kept so much from me.
She was afraid.
Afraid of her children.
Afraid of being wrong.
And perhaps afraid that the truth would destroy the family she had spent her life trying to keep together.
I wasn't sure whether I could forgive her.
But I was beginning to understand her.
Before she left, I asked one more question.
"Why did you hug me so tightly that morning?"
She looked at me.
Then she gave a sad little smile.
"Because I knew you might never look at me the same way again."
She was right.
Click here to continue reading: PART 15: The Solicitor Opened Arthur’s Sealed Letter in Front of All Three Children, and Nobody Was Prepared for His Final Instructions
I Thought My Marriage Was the Only Thing My Ex-Husband’s Family Had Taken From Me, Until His Mother Needed My Help
Part 14 of 20
