Your mother knows that this is to happen, but she is unaware of the true reasons.

Because you are reading these words in the distant future, I cannot possibly know what twists and turns your life has taken or in what manner you have chosen to live it. Should you wish to sell the cottage, you have my blessing. Nevertheless, you must not relinquish ownership before you follow the instructions that I am about to describe. Only then, my dear, should you decide whether to keep it or to let it go. Please also know that as the years go by, I will do my very best to be there every step of the way, watching you, guiding you, and mentoring you.

Although it will be many years before you become a woman, I already sense that there will grow a strong bond between us—perhaps even greater than the one I already share with your mother. Regardless of what you may have heard, be assured that Lake Evergreen is a wonderful place. Because of personal reasons, I have not visited my cabin for many years, nor will I ever do so again. But that is all right, because it has now become yours. And, as you will soon learn, it was best that the cottage has lain undisturbed until this day, when you are at last old enough to understand.

Travel to Lake Evergreen soon, my dear granddaughter, and be sure to go there alone. When you arrive, go to the guest bedroom and move the bed aside. You will notice three certain floorboards, easily identifiable because their joints are scratched and worn. When you remove them, you will find an old tin box; its lock can be opened with the key you now possess. Inside the box are some additional things that I wish to bequeath to you. And like the cottage, only after much consideration should you decide what to do with them.

Whatever decision you choose to make, I’m sure it will be the right one. My soul has been bothered these many years, but I hope that placing this letter and my beloved cottage in your care will finally grant me a measure of peace. Lastly, my child, know that my thoughts and prayers go with you.

Your loving grandmother,

Brooke Bartlett

Stunned, Chelsea refolded the pages. Despite her overpowering grief, she knew one thing. She would trust in her grandmother’s instructions and follow them to the letter. After collecting herself, she placed the letter and the mysterious key back in the envelope.

“May I also read it?” Allistaire asked compassionately.

Her grandmother’s written warning still fresh in her mind, Chelsea shook her head. “No,” she answered.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “There might be something in it that—”

“No,” Chelsea said insistently.

Although taken aback, Allistaire relented. “Very well,” he said. “Do you have any instructions for me?”

Chelsea looked down at the envelope for a time, thinking. “Leave things as they are for now,” she said. “After the funeral, I’m going to Lake Evergreen. When I get back, we’ll talk again.”

“Please inform me before you go,” Allistaire requested, “because Jacques and Margot will want to greet you. You’ll need their help at first.”

“Who?” Chelsea asked.

“Jacques Fabienne and his wife, Margot,” Reynolds answered. “They’re your grandmother’s—or should I now say your—caretakers.”

Chelsea placed the precious envelope inside her purse and stood to go.

As Allistaire shook her hand, he said, “I hope that you find your answers.”

“So do I,” Chelsea answered. Whatever they might be . . .

Chapter 2

On leaving Reynolds’s law office, Chelsea got into her Mustang convertible and lowered the top. She then headed away from downtown and toward Fayetteville, one of Syracuse’s most upscale suburbs.