that tone since Thomas was alive.
“What truth?”
Richard looked at Benjamin.
Then Genevieve.
Then back at me.
“Your husband left something behind.”
I stared at him.
“Thomas died eight years ago.”
“I know.”
“Then what could he have left behind?”
Richard reached into his coat.
He pulled out a thin brown envelope.
My name was written across the front.
My hands went cold.
The handwriting was Thomas’s.
I knew it immediately.
I didn’t take the envelope.
Instead, I looked at Benjamin.
He had gone completely pale.
“You knew about
