The Envelope

I didn’t open it right away.

The envelope sat in my backpack the rest of the day, heavy and silent like it was hiding something I wasn’t ready to see. Principal Blackwood’s words echoed in my head: “Something you should’ve received a long time ago.”

What did that even mean?

Every class felt longer than usual. I could barely hear the teachers over the sound of my own thoughts. I kept glancing at my bag, wondering why he had looked at me like that. Like he knew something I didn’t.

When the final bell rang, I rushed out before anyone could stop me. I walked fast, my backpack bouncing against me with every step, the envelope still sealed inside.

At home, the silence welcomed me. Mom was working late, like always. I dropped my keys on the table, kicked off my shoes, and headed to my room without turning on any lights. I sat cross-legged on my bed and pulled out the envelope.

It was blank. No name. No writing.

I took a deep breath and carefully tore the seal.

Inside was a single photograph.

My breath caught.

It was a picture of a little girl—maybe five or six years old—sitting on someone’s lap. Her hair was in pigtails. She had a big smile on her face, and her eyes… they looked just like mine.

Because it was me.

I flipped the photo over. There was a faded date written on the back in blue ink: October 4th, 2010.

That was years ago.

I stared at the photo again. The man she was sitting on… his face wasn’t fully shown. Only his chin and shoulder. But the way he held the child… gentle, familiar. Something in my chest tightened.

Why would Principal Blackwood have this?

More importantly—how?

I opened a box from my closet, full of old birthday cards and school crafts. I found another picture of myself around that age, confirming what I already knew. It was me in the photo.

But I had never seen that moment before. I didn’t remember that day. And I definitely didn’t know who the man holding me was.

My hands were shaking as I picked up my phone.

Me: Mom, do you know this photo?

I sent a picture of it.

Minutes passed. My eyes stayed glued to the screen.

Finally, her reply came.

Mom: Where did you get that?

Me: Principal Blackwood gave it to me today. Why?

There was a pause. Then:

Mom: Leah, listen to me. Don’t go back to his office. Please. Come home straight after school. Promise me.

I stared at the message, my heart pounding.

But I was already slipping on my shoes again.