A Goth Girl Visited My 73-Year-Old Mom Every Saturday—After Her Funeral, She Handed Me a Key and Revealed My Mom’s Final Secret

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We drove to Mom’s house.

After checking her desk and sewing cabinet, I went upstairs.

Behind a stack of blankets in her closet sat a wooden box.

The key turned.

Inside were dozens of envelopes, all addressed to Elaine.

Tom picked one up.

“Eleven years’ worth of them?”

I nodded.

“She never sent them.”

My phone was already in my hand.

I called Elaine before I continue reading …