Chapter 51
Chapter 51: The Letter from Richmond
In the winter of 2037, a plain manila envelope arrived at my home in Virginia. There was no return address, just a Richmond postmark. Inside was a single piece of lined notebook paper and a small, tarnished silver object.
The object was a vintage brooch that had belonged to Janet—a piece of family jewelry she used to flaunt at dinner parties to prove her "pedigree."
The letter was written in a shaky, defeated hand.
Claire, I saw Anna’s face on the magazine stand at the pharmacy where I buy my medication. She looks like you. She has the same cold eyes you had when you shut the door on me on your porch. I’m not asking for money. I know better now. I’m writing because the doctors told me the arthritis is moving to my spine. I can barely stand for my shifts at the store. I found this brooch in an old suitcase. It’s the only thing the feds didn't liquidate because they thought it was fake. It’s real sterling silver. Give it to Anna. Tell her it’s the only inheritance left from the Davis family. I don't expect a reply. I just want one person in the world to know I used to have something valuable. – Sabrina
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I held the heavy silver brooch in my hand. It felt cold, heavy with the weight of decades of vanity, greed, and malice. Janet had used it to look down on me; Sabrina had kept it as a pathetic relic of a life she threw away.
I didn't give it to Anna. Anna didn't need a piece of silver from a woman who tried to ruin her life. I walked out to the edge of my property, where the old stone wall met the woods, and dropped the brooch into the deep, dark crevice between the rocks. Let the earth keep their inheritance. We had already built our own.
