“Come get your worthless daughter and take her back,” my mother-in-law shouted my father as I lay broken at the bottom of the stairs after my husband shoved me down. “Your family will answer for it if she has even a scratch,” was the sole warning Dad offered her. They had no notion who my father really was, so they made fun of him.

“Why would they care about my old planners?I asked, confused.

“Your written note may not have been made lately,” Gabriel reasoned.

You could have learned something, written that message months ago, hidden it, and then repressed the traumatic memory.

Or someone else forged your writing.” Gabriel added as an alternative.

“No,” I shook my head, adamantly.

“Sure is my handwriting on the envelope.

“Even if it is your writing we must know when it was created,” said Gabriel logically.

“Why would I ever write myself such a scary note?”“I whispered.