Page 5 of Fight Or Flight

“Three weeks ago.”

She nodded. “Thank you for letting me know.”

“There’s more.” He pulled a large white envelope out of his bag, slipped the photo inside, and handed it to her.

“What’s this?”

“Instructions.”

Confused, Natalie peeked inside the envelope and saw two pages. “Instructions for what?”

“Your grandmother’s last wish was for you to spread her ashes. Everything is waiting for you in . . . What’s the name of that town?”

Natalie could barely squeak the word out. “Mapleton.”

“That’s it. Everything you need to know is in there.”

Natalie pulled the papers from the envelope. Along with the photo were two letters: One, a typed, step-by-step list of instructions from Mr. Speeler. The other, a handwritten letter from Elizabeth.

She shoved the papers back into the envelope. “Elizabeth had lots of family. I can’t go back there.”

The private investigator’s eyebrows drew together in annoyance, deepening the lines. “I’m not here to be your therapist. My job was to find you, tell you about Elizabeth Monroe, and hand you that envelope. It took me longer than I care to admit, given that you legally changed your name and are basically a nomad.”

Natalie’s jaw clenched. She wanted to bare her teeth and hiss. She passed the envelope back to him. “You can tell Mr. Speeler that I’m not going back there. He can ask Chelsea to do it.”

The PI ignored her offering, zipped up his bag, and fixed his collar. “If you’ve got something to say to Mr. Speeler, tell him yourself. His contact information is in there.”

“I’m really hating this Speeler person,” Natalie muttered.

The PI stopped and looked her in the eye, evaluating her. “Look, Speeler is an adamant man. He hired five PIs on three different continents to hunt you down. If he wants to find you, he will. I’ve been doing this job for a while. I’ve seen many people running for many reasons. And you know what?”

He paused for effect, but Natalie refused to speak.

“Eventually, they all realized the same thing. You can’t run forever.”

With that, the PI turned and walked away, leaving Natalie alone in the room, standing halfway between the door and her temporary bed.

Her shoulders dropped, and her head started pounding. It was all becoming too much, the lack of sleep, the hunger, and now the news of Elizabeth’s death.

Her back felt heavy. She backed up to the green-and-brown papered wall, then slid down it until she was sitting on the dirty floor. A few moments passed with her wallowing deeper and deeper into guilt and frustration. She squeezed the envelope in her hand. The weight of it was far heavier than a few sheets of paper.

It was crushing.

Finally, she summoned the courage to open the envelope and slip Elizabeth’s letter out. She took in the tilted cursive handwriting and remembered the first time she’d seen it. It was on a note Elizabeth had handed her to give to the principal on the day she transferred to Mapleton High. She remembered the chilly November day so clearly.

Natalie moved past the beautifully written date at the top of the page, down to the start of the correspondence.

Dear Natalie,

I would like you to spread my ashes by the willow tree at the edge of the waterfall. My Edward planted that tree as a child. It holds an important place in my heart.

I know this is hard for you, but please find it in your heart to do me this favour.

I dearly love you. Always have and always will.

Grandma

Natalie’s throat closed. She carefully returned the page to the envelope, then pulled out Speeler’s instructions. The urn was at Monroe Manor, in the parlour on the coffee table. She was toretrieve the urn, spread the ashes at the waterfall on the Monroe property, then inform him ‘at once.’

---