A small flashlight clicked on, illuminating the path between us.

The light caught a silver key chain in their hand.

It was a key I recognized instantly—the key to my mother’s private study.

A study that had been locked since the day she died.

The figure stopped, holding the key out toward me.

My heart began to beat faster in my chest.

“How did you get that?” I asked.

The figure took another step, and the light revealed a face I had not seen in years.

“Evelyn,” I whispered.

The flashlight beam shook slightly in her hand.

Her face was lined with deep wrinkles that had not been there five years ago.

She wore a dark, heavy wool coat that looked too large for her thin frame.

“Vivian,” she said, her voice raspy from the cold air.

“I thought you left the country,” I said, taking a step toward her.

“Beatrice made sure everyone believed that,” Evelyn said.

She held the silver key higher, the metal catching the moonlight.

“She threatened my family, Vivian.”

“She told me if I ever spoke to you, she would ruin my son’s career.”