My Mothre’s Guilt journal Became MY Cancellation Notice Chapter 05

My Mothre’s Guilt journal Became MY Cancellation Notice Chapter 05

Mrs. Carter spoke in a low voice. “Miss Ivy, back then, Miss Celeste’s nanny gave her the wrong dosage out of convenience. Mrs. Sullivan knew and fired the nanny. But at the time, Miss Celeste had just cried because she wanted your necklace and you refused to give it to her, so Mrs. Sullivan…”

So she wrote the first entry in the accountability journal.

She said I had wounded my sister’s heart over a mere object.

That page had been driven into me like a nail for eighteen years.

I had always thought Celeste’s illness had something to do with me.

That was why whenever she wanted my things afterward, I always gave in first.

But from the very beginning, it had never been my fault.

I lowered my head and looked at the medical record.

The doctor’s handwriting on the paper was crooked and messy, but it felt far more honest than that accountability journal.

Mrs. Carter took an old jewelry box from the bottom of the document box.

When she opened it, a thin gold necklace lay inside.

There was a tiny scratch along the edge of the pendant. On the back was an engraving.

Ivy, safe and sound.

My fingertip came to rest on those words, and for a long time, I did not move.

Celeste had worn that necklace for more than ten years.

Only then did I learn that my name had been engraved on it.

Tessa’s expression changed completely. “Mrs. Carter, how did this necklace end up with you?”

Mrs. Carter lowered her head and looked at the pendant, her voice low and tight. “Three days ago, Tara from Miss Celeste’s room took it to a jewelry store and said there was an old engraving on the back. She wanted it buffed off and replaced with a new one. That store was one the late Mrs. Whitman used to visit often. When the owner saw the words ‘Ivy, safe and sound,’ he thought something was wrong and called me.”

She paused, then pushed the necklace into my palm.

“I paid to get it back. The owner also kept the receipt and the security footage for us.”

I clenched the necklace, and the edge of the pendant dug into my palm.

It was not that Celeste did not know whose necklace it was.

She was only afraid the Graham family might discover the name on the pendant. She was afraid the thing she had worn for more than ten years would end up proving that even the very first grievance she claimed had been stolen from me.

I placed the necklace back in my palm.

“Who else knows?”

Mrs. Carter said, “The doctor from back then still works at the city hospital. The nanny later moved back to her hometown, and I have her contact information too. As for the jewelry store, the owner can testify.”

I nodded.

For the next few days, I did not go to the study again, and I did not look for Celeste.

My father thought I had finally fallen in line.

My mother had the housekeeper bring me medicine once, saying I looked pale.

I did not drink it.

I asked Tessa to quietly look into the copy-shop lead.

If Celeste had only taken a few photos of the accountability journal, the Graham family would not have received such a complete “character file.”

Some of those images were photos of the original pages, and others were formatted scans.

Someone had organized them for her.

Tessa went twice and finally found a copy shop near the Graham family’s home.

At first, the owner denied everything.

Only after Tessa placed a screenshot from the jewelry store’s security footage on the counter did he pull up a record from the old draft files on the shop computer.

The person who had come in to scan the accountability journal photos was Tara from Celeste’s room.

The file was titled Family Education Records, Compiled Version.

The copy shop still had the text-message thread.

When Tara sent the file, she added one extra message.

[Please make the layout look more formal. It’s for the older generation to see.]

In the owner’s saved draft files, there was also an instruction note that had not been fully deleted.

[If the Graham family is still willing, Celeste is prepared to continue the engagement between our families in Ivy’s place.]

It was Celeste.

As I looked at that line, I suddenly remembered the day she sat in front of her vanity with red eyes and asked me whether the Graham family was really that good.

So it had not been a sudden impulse.

She had waited for a long time.

Three years ago, rumors had gone around our social circle saying that the older Sullivan daughter was cold and difficult to get along with.

I had been younger then, and my mother told me people outside the family simply loved to gossip. She told me not to take it to heart.

Thinking about it now, rumors like that did not appear out of nowhere.

That night, Tessa asked me, “Ivy, should we take these to Mr. Sullivan now?”

I shook my head.

My father would not stand up for me immediately.

He would only think about how to contain it first.

I would wait.

I would wait until the Sullivan family gathered everyone themselves.