Had El orchestrated their meeting as well? Had she somehow reached out and put the pieces in place that would lead them to each other? Riley had been the key to unlocking the long buried secrets of Reaney Hall all along so it wasn’t so much of a stretch to believe that their meeting each other had been made possible by a ghostly push in the right direction. In any case, he was here now, and the truth of his past lay waiting at his fingertips.
Reaching out, Noah took the book gently from Riley’s hands and placed it on his own lap before slowly laying it open. The words written across the page were written elegantly, a proper ladies script. He softly ran a finger over the top sentence and held his breath. Eyes closed, he imagined El sitting on her bed, pen in hand as she wrote. He fingers touching the very page that Noah now touched. Spilling her heart out, word by word, in a tragic tale that would take decades to be told. A tear slipped from Noah’s eye as Riley wrapped his arms around him and held him close, comforting him in a way only a lover could.
“Are you ready for this?” Riley asked him.
Noah let out the breath he’d been holding then nodded. “I am.” He softly whispered. “She’s waited long enough.”
Without saying a word, Riley turned the pages, searching for the one page with the torn corner. It had to be that page. Riley knew it somehow. It was the page that would reveal everything and lead them to the truth they sought after. He turned each page, past the ones he had already read and past the ones he had not, then he found it. It wasn’t the last page in the diary, but it was the last page that had been written on. The rest of the book was filled with blank pages. Perhaps she had given up or–more likely–there was nothing left to write and no one to write it. Both Noah and Riley looked down at the page and to their surprise, found that it had not been written by El. Noah narrowed his eyes and looked at Riley, questioningly. Riley shrugged, just as confused as Noah.
“Who…” Noah began to ask but stopped as his eyes scanned down the page to the very bottom where it had been signed, Eric Morgan.
“My father.” Riley whispered, more to himself than to Noah. “But why? Why would he…”
Noah placed a hand on Riley’s and gently squeezed it. “You don’t have to.” He said, nodding to the entry. “I can read it if you’d rather.”
“No.” Riley shook his head. “Read it aloud. I want to hear it.”
“You’re sure?”
Riley nodded. “He made this entry for a reason. I want to know why. Clearly he intended for someone to find it and I think El wants us both to know what happened.”
“Alright.” Noah scooted to the head of the bed and sat back, closer to the flickering light of the candle. Riley situated himself between Noah’s legs, resting his back against Noah’s chest as Noah held the diary up so both of them could see, and began to read…
Entry by Eric Morgan
To whomever may find this,
I pray that by the time you’re reading this, the truth will finally be out, and justice will have been served. But, if it hasn’t, if this is the first you’re hearing of this, then I need you to understand everything I’m about to say. This isn’t a confession. Not in the way you might think. It’s a detailed account of what happened to El, my dear friend. How she died, and how I ended up involved in this nightmare.
I had come to work for the Reaney family when Stephen Reaney hired me to care for his younger sister, Eleanor Reaney. She was pregnant, single, and had come to Stephen for help. I was told many things about her that I will not repeat only to say that I didn’t believe half of them. She seemed like such a sweet girl, sad and quiet, and not at all the picture that Stephen Reaney had painted of her.
She’d had some problems with addiction in the past, she admitted that to me, but I don’t think it was as bad as Stephen had tried to make it seem. El had changed, and she was trying to do better. She wanted to be a good mother to her child. I believe that. I truly do. Stephen and his wife, Lilian, were keeping El confined here at the mansion. In the beginning perhaps they had El’s best interests in mind but I believe their motivations had changed over time. I’ve heard it said before, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
By the time I had been hired, it was clear that Stephen and Lilian had no intention of ever letting El leave. At least, not with her baby. She had become a prisoner here and Stephen Reaney was too rich and powerful to fight. I was scared of him. I’ll admit that though it’s no excuse for my role in El’s confinement. I should have done more to help her. I should have at least tried. I’m as much to blame for what happened as Stephen and Lilian. My silence, my compliance, my own self serving actions–all played a role in the tragic events that ended El’s life. For that, I will never forgive myself.
I won’t ask for El’s forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. All I can ask for is understanding. I’m young, naive, and desperate for help so I took advantage of a bad situation, knowing full well that what the Reaney’s were doing was wrong and still, I did nothing. Eleanor, I am so sorry. You deserved better. So much better. You deserved love, and happiness. Instead, all you found was misery and pain.
In the months that I worked at Reaney Hall, El and I became good friends. Honestly, I’ve never had a better friend. Certainly not one as loving, caring, and devoted as her. She quickly became like a sister to me and I loved her. El was nearly eight months into her pregnancy when she went to Stephen on my behalf, asking him to help my family. You see, my mother was ill, dying, and we had no money. I don’t know what El expected Stephen would do. Give my father money maybe, perhaps a job. Anyway, he refused to help. When he turned El away she was furious, and they got into a terrible argument.
They were yelling at each other, each of them saying horrible things. I was in my room but I could hear their voices getting louder, angrier. El told Stephen that she was leaving and that if he tried to stop her, she would sue him for her share of the inheritance and expose him and Lilian for keeping her hostage in the mansion. Stephen told her she could leave after the baby was born, but that she wouldn’t be taking it with her. He didn’t care what happened to her after that.
He was done trying, done caring, but he wasn’t going to let her ruin her child’s life the way she had ruined her own. Stephen said she was nothing but a junkie and a whore and as far as Stephen was concerned, she could rot in hell. I cowered in my room at the end of the hall, their voices carried throughout the mansion, echoing down the corridor. I put my hands over my ears, trying to block out the yelling, the cruel and hurtful words, and the painful cries as El begged Stephen to just let her leave.
Then I heard it. The terrible, frightened, and ear piercing scream. My blood ran cold and I rushed out into the hall to help her. But just as I arrived, I saw Stephen standing at the top of the stairs, looking down. Looking at El. I gasped and he turned to me. The look on his face gave me chills. He looked shocked, scared almost, but there was something else there as well, in his eyes. Just a glint of something. I can’t really describe it. It was the way he narrowed his eyes and glared at me. He took a step towards me and for a moment I thought, I felt, that I was in danger too. But then he began to sob and that sinister look in his eyes vanished.