“No.”
“Not even after he died?”
“He sealed it before he gave it to me.”
Something inside me loosened by a fraction.
At least there had been one boundary Wade had not crossed.
I looked at the last lines.
Randall’s handwriting slanted downward, as though the strength in his hand had failed before the page ended.
I read them aloud.
“‘I know what I have told you makes my reasons sound cleaner than they were.’”
Wade lowered his head.
I continued.
“‘They were not clean. I was frightened, angry, jealous of every day you might have after mine were gone, and more controlling than I ever admitted while I was alive.’”
My voice weakened.
The final sentence sat alone beneath it.
I could almost see Randall pausing before he wrote it.
I tightened my hand around the brass key.
“‘Before you decide I did this out of love, use the key—locker 214 contains the part I was too ashamed to put on paper.’”
Part 3 - Locker 214
