Chapter 10: Open Only If Necessary
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
The envelope rested in Amelia's hands like a fragile piece of the past.
Seven years.
Seven years since her mother's death.
Seven years of unanswered questions.
And now, suddenly, answers might be within reach.
Her father stared at the handwriting.
His face had gone pale.
"That's her writing."
Amelia didn't respond.
She already knew.
She had recognized it instantly.
The officer looked between them.
"Do you want us to document it before opening?"
Amelia hesitated.
Then nodded.
"Yes."
The officer carefully photographed the envelope from several angles.
Only after finishing did he step back.
"You may proceed."
The room fell silent again.
Amelia slipped a finger beneath the seal.
For a moment, she couldn't m
