Dark Secrets [COMPLETED]

Chapter 13: Lost & Found

The directions that were written led me outside, down my path behind the manor, and into the woods. About a third of the way along, I swerved to the left and was brought to a clearing between a pair of birch trees, where a bunch of logs rested. They were placed next to each other, like whoever cut them was planning on coming back for them but never did.

The one in the center was what I was looking for. It was dark and rotted by nature and time, but there was still a distinct shape of an X etched into the wood. X marks the spot, I thought. How crazy it was that I'd walked past this place so many times and never even noticed...

I put my hands on the log and, using my legs, I pushed. It took a solid three minutes to roll it out of its resting place, and when I was done, I was exhausted. I stood up, wobbly-legged, and wiped my brow. Then I stepped back and looked at the ground.

Amidst the dark, log-shaped dent in the underbrush, was a patch of dirt. I rushed back up the trail to get a trowel from Mom's greenhouse. Then I came back and used it to dig up the spot.

Sure enough, there was a wooden box buried beneath where the log had been. Hands shaking, I gripped it and pulled it out of the hole. I sat on the foliage-covered ground and placed it in my lap.

Inside was a pile of papers and documents. On top of it all was another piece of yellowed notebook paper, like the one the letter was written on. I picked it up and read it.

To whomever found this box, thank you for following my instructions.

Allow me to introduce myself: my name is Virginia Clement, and I have been living in Kendrick House for almost a year at this point, working as a maid for the sole resident, Robert William Castle. But I confess that I have another motive: I've been looking into the disappearance of Meredith Kendrick.

As anyone who's lived in Ramblewood for years would know, Meredith Kendrick was the daughter of the original owner, Evelyn Kendrick—the daughter of the original Kendrick patriarch—and her English husband, William. In 1918, Meredith disappeared and no one ever found her.

I believe that I have found the answer to what happened to Miss Kendrick. And from what I've found, the truth is much darker than anything I could have ever imagined.

Everything you need to know is in this box. I have done what I can to fill in any gaps.

Sincerely, V

Attached to the paper with a paperclip was a photograph. I picked it up and studied it. It was a photo of a pretty young woman with shoulder-length brown hair that flipped up at the ends, and with wide, light-coloured eyes. As I stared at her grinning face, it hit me that this was the same photo I saw in Robert's study on the mantle. Was this Virginia Clement?

There was a note on the back of the photo that read: If you find this, please contact Harriet Clement-Green on 12 Wentworth Blvd.

So it was her. Why did Robert have this photo in his study? He couldn't have known her personally, so it must've belonged to his father. The questionable nature of why his father kept a photo of a pretty young woman who was working for him at the time was not lost on me.

Wondering who Harriet Clement-Green was—a relative, perhaps—I placed the photo on top of the letter and tucked them off to the side of the box. Looking through the rest of the papers underneath, it only took me a cursory glance to recognize what they were: the missing pages from Meredith's journal.

Eagerly, I sorted through them by date and found the one that started where I left off.

I was not prepared for what I read.