Chapter 4 - The Letter Behind Ellie’s Photograph
They found it behind a framed photograph.
Not hidden inside a safe.
Not buried beneath floorboards.
Behind a picture of Ellie and Maren taken at the zoo shortly before the separation.
The frame had hung on Ellie’s bedroom wall for two years.
Celeste herself once suggested keeping it there.
“She should never feel we’re erasing her mother.”
Mateo remembered thanking her.
Now he removed the cardboard backing with hands that barely worked.
A yellow envelope slid out.
His name was written across the front.
Mateo.
Maren’s handwriting.
He sat on Ellie’s bed.
For several seconds, he could not open it.
The postmark was eighteen months old.
Six months after Maren disappeared.
Mateo finally unfolded the pages.
Maren did not say she hated him.
She did not say she wanted a divorce.
She did not say she wanted to abandon Ellie.
She wrote:
Celeste says you still don’t want to speak directly. I will respect that because the last thing I want is another fight.
Another paragraph:
Please tell Ellie I did not leave because of her. I need you to tell her that even if you never forgive me.
Then:
I keep thinking about coming home anyway, but Celeste says you told her I would only make things worse.
Mateo had never said that.
The next sentence hurt worse.
If you want me to come back, tell Celeste. I will come.
Mateo lowered the letter.
For six months after Maren left, she had been waiting for one message.
Come home.
Mateo had sent that message.
More than once.
Through Celeste.
He remembered standing in the same study telling her:
“Tell Maren whatever happened between us, Ellie needs her mother.”
Celeste returned the next morning and said:
“She said she can’t do it.”
Lie.
Mateo read further.
The letter ended:
I don’t know if we can save our marriage. I do know I never wanted Ellie to think I disappeared because I stopped loving her.
Mateo pressed the paper against his forehead.
No one spoke.
Then Ellie appeared in the doorway.
Rosa had failed to stop her without physically restraining her, and nobody was going to do that.
Ellie looked at the envelope.
“That’s Mom’s writing.”
Mateo swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Did she write me?”
“About you.”
“Did she leave because of me?”
“No.”
Immediate.
For once, something was certain.
“No.”
Ellie began crying.
Mateo pulled her against him.
“She never stopped loving you.”
“Then where is she?”
Mateo looked toward Celeste standing farther down the hall.
That was still the question.
The diary contained locations.
Not exact addresses.
Only shorthand.
Alder.
Maine.
Changed number.
Still asking about E.
Mateo hired a new investigator that same afternoon.
May you like
Not to drag Maren home.
To find out where the messages had stopped.
