The truth was worse than Eleanor expected.
William Grace had discovered that Thomas intended to marry Clara.
But William believed Clara's family was hiding something.
A family scandal.
A secret involving money, inheritance, and betrayal.
He threatened Thomas.
If Thomas returned to Clara, William would expose Clara's family.
Thomas refused.
So William created a lie.
He told Clara that Thomas had died.
At the same time, he told Thomas that Clara had married another man.
The two people who loved each other were separated by a lie.
Eleanor sat on the floor of the attic, crying.
Eight decades had passed.
But the pain still felt alive.
Eleanor discovered Clara's diary hidden inside a hollowed-out book.
Clara had written about waiting.
She wrote about every train.
Every winter.
Every birthday.
Every hope.
Then came the final entry.
Thomas came back.
Eleanor stopped breathing.
The next sentence was almost unreadable.
I saw him.
But there was something else.
A second person was mentioned.
Someone Eleanor knew.
Her grandmother.
Margaret.
Eleanor realized her grandmother had been involved too.
But perhaps not in the way she had assumed.
The diary ended with a single sentence:
Margaret promised she would help us.
Margaret promised she would help us.