The Truth About Us

CHAPTER ONE

Not much in life registered higher on the creepy scale than staring a corpse in the face. Except maybe when it was someone she loved. Someone with secrets.

Abigail Bridges took in the orange tint of her grandmother’s skin, trying her best to ignore the nose-wrinkling scent of mothballs and fresh flowers lingering in the air. It wasn’t every day you buried someone you loved. And it wasn’t every day you got a letter from the grave.

Reaching into the pocket of her black pants, Abby fingered the edges of the folded stationary she discovered in her grandmother’s old jewelry box, tucked beneath her freshwater pearls like buried treasure.

Ten years ago, I discovered a family secret, one that could very much change our lives... The words burned themselves in Abby’s skull, marring this goodbye with an unexpected ambiguity.

Since the moment her grandmother died, Abby dreamt of hearing from her again, dreamt of seeing the familiar crease of her aged skin spread with the curl of her smile, those sparkling blue eyes set off by a shock of thick, white hair. Only four days had passed since her death, and the ache in her chest reminded her of the loss every day. They were days of numbness and disbelief, but of all the things Abby hoped to hear in the wake of her passing, this wasn’t it.

“Abby, you ready?” A hand came down on her shoulder, and she turned to the sound of her mother’s voice.

Puffy, bloodshot eyes stared back at her as her mother nodded toward the exit of the funeral home. It was time to leave. Her final goodbye had passed her by, and all she could think about was the letter in her pocket.

Abby glanced at her grandmother one last time and couldn’t help but feel she had gained no amount of closure from this farewell.

By the time she arrived back home and retreated to the comfort of her bedroom, alone with nothing but her thoughts, the weight of the letter in her pocket nearly crippled her, outweighing her grief by a thousand to one.

Sliding her hand into her pocket, she removed the letter and unfolded it. She imagined GG writing it—pressing pen to paper, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Swallowing over the rock-sized lump in her throat, Abby pushed down the swell of anxiety wreaking havoc in her chest. The thump of her pulse strummed a rhythmic beat in her ears, drowning out the sound of her mother’s sobs coming from the next room. She sunk down onto her bed, everything else forgotten, as she read her grandmother’s words with fresh eyes.

My dearest Abigail,

Ten years ago, I discovered a family secret, one that could very much change our lives forever. Up until that point, I thought myself to be a strong woman. I prided myself on living my life without fear. I thought I’d be brave in the face of adversity, but when faced with difficulty, often times, we react differently than imagined. It’s these moments, the choices we make when faced with a critical decision, that determine true strength and character.

I’m afraid I took the easy route. I’m afraid I failed.

If you’re reading this, I’m gone from this world—off to a better place—somewhere I hope I won’t be punished for turning the other cheek. You see, over ten years ago, I stumbled upon a lie. This lie turned into secrets. And secrets into more lies.

I should’ve pushed, questioned, and revealed what I knew, allowing the truth to uncover itself, but I didn’t. Instead, I buried what I learned, making excuses for myself and hiding behind my denial. The mind is a powerful thing. Tell yourself something enough and you’ll believe it.

Combining with denial was my lack of concrete proof. I won’t go into detail now, but I had speculation, a hypothesis if you will, and little else. By the time an opportunity for more information presented itself, it was too late. I had already locked the secrets away, and the one person who knew of my search for answers was silenced.

My darling, I am sorry to say in my final moments on this earth, I regret my choices. Now, the burden of proof is on you. Only one other person knew about this. To my knowledge, he had the missing pieces to the puzzle. He harbored the proof you will need to be believed. Unfortunately, you will receive no answers from him now.

But the answers are out there somewhere. Waiting to be found. I am sure of it. If only I had the time to find them now, maybe I could right this wrong.

My hope is for your curiosity and your love for me to be a driving force in your motivation to uncover our family’s past, our history. But if it’s not, I have left you a trust fund. There is a substantial amount of money sitting in a bank account in your name, enough to pay for college and start a new life for yourself upon graduation.

As my cancer worsened and my time drew near, I gave my lawyer implicit instructions. One was to release the trust to you, but not until you have received all of my letters and unraveled the truth. Another was that on the night of my funeral, he was to arrange a special meeting. Be at Myer’s Community Park at ten o’clock tonight. There, you will receive your first clue.

Be brave, my Abby. This secret is our past. Revealing it will be your future.

Love,

GG

Abby clutched the letter in her hands and turned to the clock on her nightstand. It was seven o’clock, three hours before she was supposed to be at the park, and she had no idea what to do.

This was her grandmother, she told herself. Trust fund aside—because she didn’t care about the money—she only cared about what was clearly her grandmother’s dying wish.

Of course she should go. Shouldn’t she?

Her stomach clenched as she mulled over her decision. The fact the request had come from GG was of little consolation. She hadn’t known this woman with secrets. Abby had only known the one who played dolls with her as a child, baked her favorite cookies, and laughed with her over a game of cards.

What would happen if she went? What would happen if she didn’t?

More importantly, her grandmother was dead, so who would be waiting for her when she got there?

DARKNESS SURROUNDED her as she walked beneath the canopy of stars. She tucked her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, as a soft breeze caressed the exposed skin of her legs below her shorts.

Only a few minutes from her house, Abby had opted to walk the blo

ck to Myer’s Community Park. As luck would have it, her mother was too preoccupied with her own grief to question her going to bed before ten on a Saturday night. Her father, busy with consoling her mother, never noticed when Abby snuck out of her room, down the stairs, and out the front door. They wouldn’t check on her. Abby had given them no reason to doubt her throughout the years.

Armed with her thoughts and her cell phone, she raced over the sidewalk, ignoring the seed of dread swelling in her chest. Pinpoints of light dotted the indigo sky, only partly visible above the streetlights below. A dog barked in the distance, echoing through the balmy evening air.

She turned off the main road to the entrance of the park. The empty pavilion stood off to her right, next to the small playground, while the mouth of the vacant baseball field stretched out into the distance, yawning before her.

Longing reached under her ribcage, tugging at her heart. Hot summer days spent whittling away the hours at the park with GG and her grandfather pulled at her thoughts. They used to take her there during the week while her parents worked. Hours spent climbing the monkey bars, bouncing on the see-saw, pumping her legs on the swing, and spinning on the merry-go-round until she was dizzy formed a kaleidoscope of memories.

The clean scent of rain lingered in the damp night air. Goosebumps rose on her arms, and she hugged herself, trying to ward off the chill.

Abby walked past the slides, her feet sinking in the rubber mulch. When she reached the swings, she spun in a circle, surveying her surroundings for a sign she was not alone and found none. Taking a seat, she continued to eye the landscape. Nothing out of the ordinary popped out at her. The canopy of trees surrounding the small park loomed ominously in the dark. Their leaves rustled in the soft breeze, a soothing sound, if not for her mounting nerves.

She rubbed her arms, trying not to think of all the ways this could end poorly, most of them resulting in her lifeless body lying in the woods.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled a calming breath, trying to stifle the feeling of being watched.

Bright side, she thought. Look at the bright side.

This was exciting. It was taking her mind off of GG and how much she missed her...

The clinking of bottles pierced the quiet, and her eyes popped open. In her heightened state, her stomach rolled as her pulse raced.

A twig snapped, causing her to jump. Her heart lurched as she turned toward the sound behind her. A figure loomed, tall and thin, in the inky darkness.