Page 33 of Lost Truth
He returned to the bookshelves. The crinkling of a butterscotch candy wrapper had him glancing back to see her reaction. The taste would either soothe her soul or break her heart.
He tried to get a read on her, but she shot back from the desk, a drawer handle clutched in her hand. “This drawer won’t open, but there’s no lock. I’ve seen Dad open it so it’s not a false drawer.”
She tugged harder, planting her feet, and putting her whole body into it, to no avail. “It won’t release.”
“Let me look at it.” He squatted and ran his fingers around the outside of the drawer, but couldn’t find any reason why it wasn’t opening. He sat back for a minute to think. “What if it’s one of those drawers where you have to open two drawers at the same time to release a mechanism.”
“I’ll try it.” She yanked the top drawer open part way, then tugged on the second one. “Not the top one.”
After shoving that drawer closed, she jerked on the bottom one. Her hand flew back to the second one. Pulled. It moved.
“Yes! Yes!” Eyes alight with victory, she bounced in the chair. “You’re right.”
He caught her excitement, but when he looked inside the emotion evaporated. “Nothing in there. Not a single thing.”
She let out a defeated whoosh of air and sat back.
Hayden felt her defeat, but he wasn’t done with the drawer yet. “What’s the point of having a locked drawer with nothing inside?”
“Good question,” she said, but didn’t move.
Hayden eased closer and traced the wood inside with his fingers. He revealed a gap between the bottom and the sides.
False drawer? Maybe.
“Do you have a letter opener or something else thin I can pry with?” he asked.
“Letter opener. Here.” She jerked out the middle drawer, her hands frantically searching until she waved a shiny opener at him.
He took it and inserted it in the tiny gap, then lifted the bottom panel. “Just like I thought. The drawer has a false bottom.”
He raised the bottom higher and revealed a stack of papers, an old bank deposit book, and a journal embossed with colorful birds.
“A journal.” The words came out on a whisper as she reached for the book and quickly pressed it open on the desktop. “Dated November of last year. He didn’t bring a journal for this time period to my house, so I thought he’d stopped journaling. I questioned him, but he couldn’t remember if he’d stopped or not, and if so, where he’d kept the book.”
“It’s got to be very frightening to lose your memory that way. I can’t even imagine.”
She nodded, though her distant gaze made it clear her mind was elsewhere. She suddenly locked gazes with him. “Why would he have put this one in a secret place? He was still lucid most of the time then. He didn’t really go downhill until February, so he must not have wanted anyone to find it.”
Hayden didn’t know the answer, but he could share his best guess. “Makes sense that the journal contains something he didn’t want anyone else to read.”
She planted her hands on the desk and pulled herself closer. “I got pencils from his desk so many times as a child. How did I not know this false drawer was here?”
“If he wanted to keep it a secret, he would’ve been very careful to make sure you didn’t know about it.”
She could chalk this up as one of those things she would desperately want to ask her father and then realize she could never ask him about things no one else could answer for her, and the depth of pain at his passing would hit her all over again.
“The journal might provide some answers,” he said, trying to sound upbeat. “Do you want to read it now, or would you rather do it when you’re alone?”
Her finger tapped nervously on the journal, her gaze fixed downward. After a long pause, she straightened her posture as if bracing herself. “I’ll skim through it now to see if there’s anything to help us and read it in more detail later.”
“Then I’ll go back to the bookshelves, and you can let me know if you find something.”
She smiled up at him, her expression warm, and he caught the hint of a smile that seemed to promise something more. “Thank you for coming here with me. Being with you makes this much easier.”
“Anytime you need me, I’m here for you.” He gently squeezed her shoulder on the way back to the bookshelves.
Offering her comfort in that way was the right thing to do, but he had to stop touching her. Yes, he only meant to show his support, but a simple touch could grow into so much more.
