Daniel enlarged the image.
A woman stood across the road.
She wore a red coat and held a black umbrella.
Though the photograph was blurred, her face was turned directly toward the house.
Thomas whispered, “Lenora.”
Carl’s recorded voice continued.
“She came to see Claire for herself. That means she is frightened. And Lenora Vale becomes careless only when frightened.”
The recording crackled.
“Claire, inside the lining of the yellow blanket, you will find your mother’s final message.”
I grabbed the blanket and examined its edges. One seam had been recently repaired. Daniel used a small pair of scissors from the chest to open it.
A strip of waterproof fabric was hidden inside.
Wrapped within it was an old cassette tape.
On its label, written in delicate handwriting, were the words:
For my daughter, when she is ready.
Before we could play it, a phone began ringing.
Not mine.
