The envelope wasn’t sealed. That was the first thing Loretta noticed.
Her fingers trembled as she held it.
What did her uncle mean by evidence that showed who Martin really was?
Her hands were cold. She couldn’t tell if it was the air or the dread blooming in her stomach.
The tips of her fingers brushed the corner first, as if she was afraid it might burn her.
She peeled it open, careful not to tear whatever was inside. It hurt to breathe. Her ribs felt tight, like someone had cinched them in.
Photographs.
Four, maybe five and a note.
She didn’t read the note. Not yet. Her eyes were drawn to the photos like a magnet, her heart a thumbing in her chest.
She lifted the photos out.
She didn’t even notice the file fall from her hands. Didn’t hear it slap against the floor. Her eyes h
