I wasn’t sure why Saundra was telling me all this, and my confusion must have shown in my face.

“She wrote a note and put it on the cover of the diary,” Saundra said. “She wrote, Give to the girl with the yellow hair.”

I was stunned. “Why would she do that?” I asked, but my mind was racing. How far back did the diary go? Was there a chance Mama Nelle had revealed something about Anna in it? Something she thought I should know?

“I have no idea,” Saundra said.

I looked down at her empty hands. “Did you bring the diary with you?” I asked.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind,” she said, an apology in her voice. “I’ll definitely turn it over to you, since that’s what she wanted me to do, but I would really like to read it first myself. I had no idea she kept it and I really—”

“Of course.” I could imagine how hungry the daughter of a loving mother would be to read about her life, although I couldn’t care less what stories my own mother might tell. I wanted to ask Saundra, When can I get it?, but managed to hold my tongue.

“I’ll have to break the lock.” Saundra looked apologetic.

“Of course,” I said again. “I wonder if there’s something in it about Anna Dale and that’s why she’s leaving it to me.”

“I’ll let you know if I come across anything like that,” Saundra said, “but honestly, Morgan? you shouldn’t get your hopes up. She wasn’t thinking clearly at all the last couple of days. It doesn’t make any sense she’d leave her diary to you. I think she was simply not herself that night.”

I nodded. “I understand,” I said. “And I’d like to read it, but I’ll give it back to you afterward. It should stay in your family.”

“Thanks for understanding that,” Saundra said. “Oh, and I also found some old sketches of family members that Uncle Jesse drew when he was a boy. Do you think Lisa might want them for the gallery?”

“Maybe,” I said. “I’ll ask her.” But my words came out woodenly, mechanically. All I could think about was getting my hands on Mama Nelle’s diary.

Chapter 54. Anna

Chapter 54

ANNA

April 5, 1940

Anna wasn’t sure if Jesse was angry at her or maybe just worried. She didn’t really care which. He was wisely keeping people away from the warehouse and they didn’t understand why they couldn’t come inside to watch her paint, as they had in the past. She didn’t know what he told them or why they obeyed him, either. She heard someone muttering about the “uppity colored boy” giving them orders, but she shut out the words. They had to stay away.