When Darcy finds a trunk full of old photographs from the 1950s and a journal belonging to someone called H, she seeks help from her grandmother who directs her to H himself. The journal is full of years' worth of entries. A love story between H and...
H has no other thoughts aside from L. I need to know what spell she put on him to take over his entire being. I need to know how she commands his attention at all times, even when he's not with her.
Not everything is adding up anymore though. When I flipped through the albums, there were only a handful of photos with L in them, the rest were of who I thought to be G from the beach photo. Why would H keep so many albums worth of photos that a majority don't include the great love of his life? It just doesn't make sense. Unless I'm missing something.
I really need to find H and talk to him, I need him to fill out the rest of the stories for me, I need him to tell me why. Why couldn't they tell anyone about their relationship? Why couldn't he write her name in the diary? Why, why, why, why? That's the only way to sum up the questions that swirl around my head.
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"Hey, doll," mum peeks her head around the corner of the dining room where I'm sat at the table.
"Hi," I give her a tight-lipped smile. I haven't seen much of her this summer; she's been so busy with work. She's been shut in her office at home or out at the actual office early in the mornings and late at night.
Reign is the only person I've really seen much of. With Jonas hiding in his room or disappearing with his friends for days, I've spent all my free time away from the diary with Reign. It does make me feel like I should reconsider my stance on holding my diary and photo albums hostage. Maybe I could loosen the reigns a little, if she wants. Maybe.
"I made some bacon butty's, do you want one?" She asks, which is odd considering she never really cooks, especially not random lunches on a Wednesday.
"Um, yeah sure," I get up to follow her to the kitchen.
"Have you had a nice summer?" She busies herself cutting the sandwiches into two symmetrical triangles like she used to do when I was little.
"I have," I say skeptically. "Why are you asking?"
She frowns as she picks up the plates and leads the way back to the dining room. "You're my daughter, Darcy, I'm interested in your life you know," she says defensively.
"Sorry," I mutter and sit across from her at the table.
"Find anything fun in the attic while you were up there?" She asks. Maybe she knows about the trunk full of someone else's things that Grammy kept. I think playing it safe for now is the best move.
"Sort of," I take a few bites of my bacon butty to buy time before continuing, she doesn't push but she does seem genuinely interested. "I found a few old photos of Grammy." It's not a lie, but it's not the whole truth.
"Really?" mum says through a mouthful of food, so really it sounds more like 'wheely?' and I try not to giggle. "I haven't seen many photos of her when she was young,"
"You haven't?" I ask. I didn't find it odd that there weren't many photos of Grammy in H's photos, but I did find it odd that there weren't many of L. Maybe mum knows more than I do.
