Diary, I don’t know what I know. But my hands are shaking. And for the first time in years, I feel like I’m on the edge of something real.
Today, I finally found the lock.
It wasn’t in the attic of her old house, or buried in the garden, or hidden behind a loose brick in the fireplace. It was in a drawer of her writing desk—a desk I’ve opened a hundred times. But today, I pulled the drawer out all the way. Tapped the bottom panel. It slid aside. emily's diary - chapter 1