Epilogue
MANY YEARS EARLIER
Hope sat facing her garden, the sunlight catching on the seven boxes lined up on the table in front of her. She sighed, reaching out to touch the one closest to her, barely recognising the gnarled fingers that traced across the soft timber.
For years she’d dutifully sent out the boxes that young women had left behind for their babies.
Many hadn’t wanted to leave anything, but many had, and she’d taken great pride in sending them to their intended recipients, following through on the promises she’d made.
Sometimes it had taken her months of searching, when records had no longer matched or names had changed, but she’d mostly always been able to find whom to send them to.
But not these final seven.
These last boxes had either been returned to her, or she hadn’t been able to find a contact to send them to at all, and she was at a loss what to do.
Hope tilted her head back and closed her eyes, letting the sunshine wash over her.
She was an old lady now, and she knew that there was only so long before the women she’d helped and the stories she held were nothing more than a memory.
Which was why it had been so important to her that she fulfil the promises she’d made, even all these years later.
Hope gathered all the boxes then and stood, ambling slowly through the house and up the stairs until she reached her office. She lowered herself on creaking knees and lifted the loose board, placing the boxes there, her hand brushing past the bottle she’d hidden so many years before.
She stayed on her knees a moment, even though doing so hurt, as memories washed over her. It wasn’t often she let herself dwell on the past, but sometimes, every now and again, it was impossible not to remember all that had come before.
Which was how Hope found herself securing the floorboard and slowly rising, going to the desk that she no longer used and taking out a familiar little box, the one that had started it all.
She opened it and took out the diamond earrings nestled inside, an heirloom that she’d long since given up hope of giving to her own daughter one day, and pressed them with unsteady fingers into her earlobes.
My daughter. It was the greatest sadness of her life that she’d never had the chance to know the child she’d brought into this world, but her only consolation had always been that she’d made sure countless other women had never had to suffer as she had.
Her hand trembled as she closed the box and closed her fingers around it, leaving it empty, the diamonds still in her ears. She wondered then why she’d ever stopped wearing them.
Hope pulled the rug over the loose floorboard before she left the room, closing the door behind her and making her way back down the stairs, holding tightly to the banister.
She’d made a promise all those years ago, to those young mothers in her care, but if she couldn’t find their daughters to send the boxes to, then she would keep them safe. Hidden.
One day, she might be able to reunite them, but for now, she knew they were safest where they’d always been. Tucked away and gathering dust beside her beloved green fairy bottle, with her memories of Gus and the life they could have had keeping them company.
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