Ella Frank - Veiled Innocence

Right now I feel anxious, excited and full of adrenaline, and none of it has to do with the papers on the table behind me but rather the secret in my pocket.

A secret that came from him, which had been given to me by…

“Doc?” I ask as I make my way over to him.

“Yes, Addy?”

“When you ask me questions, you always ask me not to lie.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?”

He regards me for a moment before he replies. “I will. If I’m able.”

Holding up Grayson’s pen, I watch Doc’s eyes move to it.

“You said Grayson gave this to you.”

He says nothing as he continues looking from the pen to me.

“When?”

“The day I gave it to you,” he says, and my mind begins to race.

He gave this to me only recently, a little over a week ago.

I throw caution out the window as I stare up at the man who’d told me I needed to trust him. I do trust him, and I just hope this isn’t a mistake because I have to know.

“How do you know it’s from Grayson?”

“Well, with the initials on the pen, it wasn’t that much of a leap, Addy.”

I step back and begin pacing.

“Why…” I start and then stop, rethinking my question. “How did you know it was for me?”

Doc walks over to me and takes my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “It came with something else.”

I wonder for a moment if he knows about the negative.

“It was addressed to my home office, Addy. I didn’t recognize the name of the sender, and when I opened it, I found the pen and a note that read, ‘It wasn’t good, and it wasn’t evil—it was just love. She deserves love. Make her understand. Take care of her, Doc.’ That first part is a play on a quote from Nietzsche, did you know that?”

I try to take it all in, but my heart is thundering so hard in my chest I’m surprised Doc can’t hear it.

“You quoted Nietzsche to me, also. That’s not a coincidence, is it?”

There’s no use denying anything anymore, and I am beyond being evasive. I just want to know…“Where did it come from? The envelope, was there a return address?”

“Addison,” Doc warns. “Whatever you’re thinking, really think it through. He sent the pen to you later, I’m assuming when he thought you were ready, and that’s when I gave it to you. To encourage you. To give you strength.”

I grin up at Doc.

He doesn’t know it, but he has given me much more than that and so has Grayson.

Grayson doesn’t just want me happy. He wants to tell me something, and I am more than ready to listen.

The Here & Now…

Release day. It is finally here.

It feels like I’ve been at Pine Groves for thirty years, not days. A knock sounds on my door and I see Doc step inside. I know that it’s thanks to this man that it has only been thirty days.

“Good Morning, Addy.”

“Hey, Doc,” I tell him as I start to fold my clothes.

“Big day for you today.”

Nodding, I walk past him to pick up a sweater that’s sitting on the small set of drawers in here.

“Yes. I’m ready.”

“Are you?” he asks, making me turn to face him.

“Another test?” I joke with a grin.

“No, a legitimate question. Are you ready, Addy?”

“Yes,” I assure him and pick up my sweater. I walk back to where he’s standing and place a hand on his arm. “I feel good.”

“Okay. So you have your prescriptions and my number if you need anything?”

I squeeze his arm and smile, feeling happy tears spring to my eyes.

Doc is the one person in my life I can count on, and I know he’ll always be there for me. Somewhere along the way, he’d reached me. Just as he is with his family, he’s also my rock—the one person that grounds me.

“I’ve got it,” I promise and step around him to finish packing.

“Your mom sent a cab.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I raise a brow. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I can give you a lift home, Addy.”

I stretch across the bed to take down the photograph on my wall, and as my fingers graze Cupids wings, I suddenly have an idea.

“I need to stop somewhere on the way.”

I turn back to face Doc and hold up the photo. “I want to get a new copy of this. Would you mind if we stop at the camera store?”

Doc reaches out and takes the crinkled photo from me.

“Psyche.”

“Yes,” I murmur. My love for this photo and the memories that go with it are some of my most treasured.

Doc slips his hand into one of his pockets and pulls out an envelope, handing it to me. I feel my heart almost stop as I recognize what he’s giving me—my letter.

Grayson’s letter.

I take it from him with a trembling hand and look up at him, my mind full of questions. I’d thought this letter was lost when all I’d woken up here with was the photo…but no.

Doc knew all along about Grayson. About me. About us.

“The morning I found you, you were clutching this as if your life depended on it, and Addy…it did.”

Confused, I bring the letter closer to me and feel my heart start to beat again.

“I got a call early that morning. The person didn’t say who they were, just that they saw you going into the Oakwood Cemetery. It was obvious they were worried about you, and you shouldn’t have been out at that time.”

I stare at Doc, disbelieving. Is he telling me what I think he is?

“I knew that was where Daniel was buried, Addy. I knew the call was about you, and when I got there and found you on the ground…”

Doc shakes his head and brings his hand up to rub his face.

“It was like seeing one of my daughters lying there. You were so still…I thought I was too late. But then I saw your hands move with your chest as you took a breath, and...that was when I called the ambulance.”

I sit down on the bed with the letter tight in my hands.

“You had that”—he points to the envelope—“in your hands. I picked you up and carried you out of those flowers and then took the note from you. I read it, Addy, because God, I thought maybe you had written a suicide note. I soon realized it was from your “friend,” the one you had spoken to me about. Grayson.”

I open the envelope and pull the crumpled letter free. A second piece of paper falls out with it—the note Doc said came with the pen. Both letters are in the same cursive writing. That’s how Doc had known for sure whom it had come from.

All of Doc’s questions, all of the clues, are like one giant puzzle.

I run my fingers over Grayson’s words and wonder what it all means. Another thought then comes to me.

“Why didn’t you give it to the police?”

Doc walks over and sits on the bed beside me. He doesn’t look my way as I turn to him.

“We all have choices to make in our life, Addy. Right or wrong.”

Yes, I remember those parts of our sessions.

“Well, I had a choice to make when I found that. Could I use it to help you? Or did I give it to people who would eventually use it in a way that would set you back?”

What Doc is telling me is unbelievable. No one has ever done something so selfless for me.

“You needed the pen and the letter to heal. Just as Cupid revived Psyche with a kiss, he revived you with words. Every single word he wrote in that letter helped me to help you. He reached you, even though he wasn’t here.”

I tremble as I touch the paper in my lap, remembering how broken I’d felt when I first read those words, but now...now it felt like—

“He saved you after all,” Doc spoke softly, finishing my thought.

I put my head on Doc’s shoulder and whisper the only words I can manage. “Thank you.”

I sit in the front of Doc’s black SUV and buckle my seat belt as we pull away from Pine Groves. I feel a sense of freedom washing over me as the air rushes in through the windows.

Finally, I’m free.

Doc is driving me to the camera store and then we will head to my house. On his back seat is the one bag I’d had dropped off for the past thirty days, and in my hand I hold the letters he’d given me in my room. The only mystery left is inside the pen in my pocket.

He pulls the car up to the front of the store, and I jump out. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

“Take your time. I have my book.”

He nods at me, trusting me, and though I hate deceiving him, I need to know what’s on that negative. I pull open the door and make my way to the front desk. A woman with jet-black hair and eyeliner to match approaches me and smiles.

“Hi. How can I help you?”

I take the pen from my pocket and unscrew it. Looking over my shoulder, I check to see that no one’s around before tipping it upside down on the counter.

“Oh cool!” she says as the negative falls out.

“Right?”

“Yeah, very double agent.” She laughs, and I see the flash of a tongue ring.

“Can you develop it?” I ask.

I want to know what’s on the negative, but I’m also terrified to find out.

“I can. It’ll take a few minutes.”

“That’s fine. Oh, and can I also get a copy of this?”

I place the old photo I’ve had on my wall down on the counter.

She picks up both objects and tells me yes and then walks out to a back room.

I go and sit on one of the chairs against the wall and start to bite my nail.

Nervous habit?