As I’m turning from locking the door my bag gets caught on the handle, tugging me back a step which knocks me off balance and sends the chest in my hands tumbling to the ground before I have a chance to catch it.

As soon as it crashes against the tile floor in the entryway the lid flies off and skids across the floor while the contents explode out scattering across the glass-enclosed space.

“No, no, no, no, no.” I drop my purse and grab the lid before I fall to my knees and frantically flip the box over to assess the damage. When I see that the worn brass hinge that attached the lid to the box has snapped in two, I want to cry. There is no way I will be able to put the chest back together without somehow replacing the hinge and I have no clue how to do that.

With a breath I start cleaning up all the ticket stubs, photos, and tiny trinkets from the floor then I notice more than one piece of paper, each about the size of the Post-it notes we use here at the bank. When I pick up the first one, I frown at the messy writing and the single line question.

You think you can block me?

I pick up another and find the same messy writing.

I told you I loved you.

I grab another, then another, each one from someone who was obviously harassing Carly and angry that she didn’t return their feelings. As I look at the stack of them in my hands, a sinking feeling fills the pit of my stomach. It was assumed that Matthew committed suicide after he killed Carly, but what if he didn’t kill her? What if he was murdered, too, and Carly’s killer is still out there.

When a loud bang hits the glass, I scream, and my eyes fly up. Seeing Troy standing on the other side of the door shoving his key in the lock a wave of fear spreads down my spine and the hair on my arms stands on end.

As quickly as I can I shove the pieces of paper in my hands into the box then start picking up the rest of the stuff off the ground.

“What happened?” he asks opening the door.

I shake my head. “Just being klutzy.” I get to my feet as he bends over. When his eyes drop to the paper he picks up off the ground, I freeze. Slowly his head turns my way and my heart that is already beating hard, begins to thunder away behind my ribcage. “I dropped Carly’s box that I have to mail to her best friend.”

“What else is in there?” he asks quietly as he watches me with a look in his eyes that makes my skin crawl.

“I didn’t go through it, I was just putting everything that spilled out back in when you knocked on the door,” I say, and am proud of the evenness of my tone when I’m so scared, I’m sure I might pass out.