Chapter 6 - Nora Remembered the Yellow Envelopes
Nora had joined the household shortly before Owen was born.
She knew nothing about Maren personally.
But when Mateo showed her the yellow envelope, her face changed.
“I’ve seen those.”
Mateo turned.
“Where?”
“In Celeste’s dressing room.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know. Four? Five?”
Celeste immediately said:
“They were old.”
Nora looked at her.
“No.”
The nanny rarely challenged anyone directly.
That made the moment sharper.
“One arrived after Owen was born.”
Mateo felt his stomach tighten.
Maren was still writing that recently?
Nora explained.
She handled household deliveries occasionally when front staff were busy.
Several months earlier, a thick yellow envelope arrived addressed only:
C. Caldwell — Personal.
Celeste took it immediately.
No return address.
Later Nora found torn yellow paper in the bedroom wastebasket while looking for a missing earring Celeste claimed had fallen nearby.
She noticed one word.
Ellie.
She assumed it was a birthday note from someone.
Another yellow envelope arrived six weeks later.
Then another.
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know.”
Celeste looked down.
Mateo’s voice hardened.
“You said you threw most away.”
“I did.”
“Most means what?”
She whispered:
“Some are in a storage box.”
They found the box in the back of a closet.
Seven letters.
All from Maren.
Spanning almost two years.
Some addressed to Mateo.
Some to Ellie.
None delivered.
The letters traced Maren’s understanding of the separation.
At first hopeful.
Then hurt.
Then resigned.
One read:
I got the birthday photographs. Thank you for sending them. Please tell Ellie the red bike is beautiful.
Mateo looked up.
“I never sent birthday photographs.”
Celeste had.
She had maintained contact with Maren privately while telling Mateo she had no idea where his wife went.
Another letter:
I understand Mateo doesn’t want me appearing without warning. I won’t do that to Ellie.
Another:
I wish he would at least let me speak to her.
Mateo stopped reading.
Ellie had spent two birthdays asking whether her mother knew how old she was.
Maren knew.
She had been sending letters.
Celeste intercepted every one.
Nora sat down.
“This is why she panicked over the diary.”
Mateo nodded.
The diary did not merely reveal secrets.
It was the index to years of separate realities.
Then Nora found one envelope unlike the rest.
Unopened.
Postmarked three weeks earlier.
Mateo stared at it.
May you like
Maren was not just alive somewhere in the past.
She had written this month.
