I froze.
The letter continued.
Someone you trust.
I looked up at Eleanor.
She was staring at me.
“You know who it is,” I whispered.
She didn’t answer.
“Eleanor… who?”
Her lips trembled.
Before she could speak, my phone rang.
I nearly dropped it.
It was my husband.
I answered immediately.
“Hello?”
His voice came through quietly.
“Where are you?”
“At an address Frank gave me.”
There was a long silence.
Then he asked:
“What address?”
I told him.
Another silence.
And then his voice changed.
“Listen to me carefully. Do not trust the woman you’re with.”
I looked at Eleanor.
She had gone completely pale.
My husband continued.
“She isn’t your mother.”
My heart stopped.
“What did you say?”
“She died twenty-seven years ago.”
I stared at Eleanor.
She slowly stepped backward.
My husband whispered:
“Get out of that house.”
The line suddenly went dead.
I stood completely still.
Eleanor’s eyes filled with tears.
Then she said something that made my blood run cold.
“Frank knew this would happen.”
“What would happen?”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a photograph.
It showed Frank standing beside another woman.
The woman was much younger.
And standing between them was a little girl.
Me.
On the back of the photograph were four words:
TRUST NO ONE, INCLUDING ME.
I looked up.
The front door was locked.
The lights suddenly went out.
And somewhere upstairs…
A floorboard creaked.
Eleanor grabbed my hand.
“Whatever you do,” she whispered, “don’t go upstairs.”
Then we heard a man’s voice from the darkness.
“Too late.”
Eleanor’s face turned white.
I recognized the voice immediately.
It was my husband.
