Chapter 15 - Starting Life As Newlyweds Together
A week later, Owen and I returned from our brief mountain honeymoon, stepping back into the quiet comfort of our suburban home. The mail was piled high on the entryway table, consisting mostly of wedding thank-you cards and unopened bills.
As I sorted through the stack, a thick, square envelope caught my eye—it didn't have a return address, just my name in familiar handwriting. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the meticulous, elegant cursive that belonged to our late mother.
“Owen, look at this,” I called out, holding up the envelope as my husband walked into the hallway carrying our travel bags. Owen dropped the luggage instantly, walking over to inspect the heavy parchment paper with a look of stunned curiosity.
“Another letter?” Owen asked, his eyebrows raising in disbelief. “I thought Pastor Daniel said she only left one.” I carefully slid my finger beneath the flap, pulling out a folded note and a small brass skeleton key.
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“If you are reading this second letter, it means the dust has settled and you and your sister have survived the storm,” Mom’s handwriting greeted me warmly. “This key unlocks the cedar chest in the attic—inside, you will find your grandmother’s childhood journals, which hold the secret to why we all struggled so hard to love each other.”
I looked at Owen, the mystery of our family’s generational pain opening up a brand-new chapter of discovery and understanding. We didn't waste a single minute; we headed straight up the stairs toward the attic ladder to uncover the past.
