I watched her disappear, already trying to figure out how I was going to uncover the truth.
What I didn’t know was that something even more shocking would arrive at our front door the following day.
I never managed to sleep.
I sat at the kitchen table for hours, staring at the note until the words lost their shape.
At seven, I climbed the stairs and gently knocked on Ellie’s bedroom door.
Nothing.
By late morning, I was standing against her doorframe, feeling as though it was the only thing keeping me upright, when the doorbell rang.
Outside stood a delivery driver holding an enormous bouquet of peonies and lilies.
The arrangement was so massive I could barely see his face.
“These are for Ellie,” he said.
I accepted the flowers and stared at them.
They must have cost a fortune.
As the driver walked away, I noticed a small card tucked among the blooms.
Before I could stop myself, I pulled it free.
Hope your legs are sore from last night. You deserved it.
“What the—” I muttered as anger and dread surged through me.
I immediately headed upstairs carrying the bouquet.
This time I knocked much harder.
I wasn’t leaving without answers.
“Ellie. Open this door. Right now.”
A pause.
Then the lock clicked.
She opened the door slightly.
Her eyes were swollen and red.
“These came for you.” I raised the flowers, then the card. “‘Hope your legs are sore from last night. You deserved it.’ Who sent this, Ellie?”
Her face collapsed.
Without warning, she grabbed the bouquet and hurled it against the wall.
“Ellie, did someone… hurt you?” I asked.
“Mom, please.”
“No. No more please, Mom. You came home at four in the morning with cash in your purse. These expensive flowers arrived this morning. The notes. You’re obviously upset, baby, and I just want to help, but I can’t do that unless I know what’s going on.”
She opened the door wider.
Read more on the next page >>
To see the complete cooking instructions, go to the next page or click the Open (>) button and don't forget to SHARE it with your friends on Facebook.
