The Letters Found Under the Mattress After the Guests Left Drained the Color from Andrei’s Face

When my husband’s mother took the last suitcase back from our house after six months, I still could not imagine that their stay would leave behind the greatest secret. That morning, the smell of rain coming through the kitchen window hung in the air. Andrei walked his parents to the car, while I stood at the door and watched Galina’s dark green umbrella fold in the wind.

Their house had been damaged by water in winter. At first they were supposed to stay with us for only a few weeks, but several weeks turned into six months. And Andrei and I still managed to cope with each other, although during all that time I had almost never opened the door of the guest room.

“Galina, I’ll change the bed linen,” I offered once.

She smiled at me politely, but immediately placed her hand on the door handle.

“It isn’t necessary, dear. I’ll take care of this room.”

There was no rudeness in her voice. That was precisely what was strange. It was as if she checked every word in advance so that nothing extra would slip out.

Andrei either did not notice it or did not want to notice it. In the evenings he sat beside me, turned my hand between his fingers, and told me that soon we would be alone again.

“Our house will become ours again,” he promised.

That morning, when his parents left, we both exhaled at the same time. The rooms suddenly seemed larger. For the first time in six months, I could no longer hear Galina’s cautious footsteps in the hallway.

The next morning I decided to clean the guest room. At eight o’clock I opened the windows, pulled the curtains aside, and placed an old sewing box on the desk. I had kept this box since childhood; a small copper bird was attached to its wooden lid, and every time it was opened it clicked dryly.

I was pulling the sheet off the bed when the elastic became stuck so deeply under the mattress that I lifted the corner of the mattress with my knee to get it out.

Something slid inside.

I froze.

At first I thought it would be Galina’s comb or an old book. I put my hand in, and my fingers caught a flat, cloth-sewn bag. The bag was slightly larger than me and had a dark-brown clasp, in whose teeth a white thread was caught.

I opened it.

Inside lay children’s photographs and envelopes.

In the first photograph there was a newborn. A year was written on the back. In the last photograph, an approximately nine-year-old girl stood in a schoolyard, with a yellow backpack and a small mole on her left cheek.

My hands began to tremble.

Under the photographs lay one of the envelopes. Clearly written on it was: “For Andrei.” Beside it I could see an old address, the house where Andrei had lived with his parents before we met.

The envelope was open.

And below I found a sealed letter. In the same handwriting it said: “Andrei, if your mother still does not give you this letter, I don’t know how else to contact you.”

At that moment Andrei appeared in the doorway.

“What happened?” he asked me.

Instead of words, I pushed the bag toward him. He picked up the first photograph, then the second. Confusion on his face slowly turned into fear.

“I don’t know this child,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

His voice was so sincere that I believed him. But then he saw the sealed envelope, and his eyes froze on that one word.

“‘Still’…” he read quietly.

The ticking of the clock sounded in the room. And I realized that these photographs had not been hidden from someone by accident. Someone had wanted to tell Andrei the truth for years.

“Do you want to open it?” I asked.

Andrei nodded and took the envelope in his hand. The white thread caught beneath the clasp still touched my skin as he brought his fingernail to the edge of the paper and slowly pulled…

Andrei carefully opened the envelope. The very first lines showed us that the woman was not accusing him of disappearing. On the contrary, she wrote that he had probably never received her previous letters.

She wrote about the child and asked him to contact her at least once before drawing a final conclusion. The letter had a date that was much earlier than our meeting.

We laid all the envelopes out on the bed. Most turned out to be opened, while two had remained untouched.

“Mother knew,” Andrei said.

He called Galina. She did not answer for a long time.

“We found these letters in our house, under the mattress. Why?”

After a silence Galina said quietly:

“Don’t open the rest. She herself must explain it to you.”

“Explain it to us now.”

“I’m coming home. You know only half the truth.”

The call ended. Andrei stood by the window, while the photographs lay in front of me. I was looking at the same small mole in the girl’s last picture, and a heavy, incomprehensible fear was growing inside me.

Galina came in an hour. She held only an old leather bag in her hand. She stopped at the door, and for the first time I saw that she was afraid.

“Before I tell you everything, I ask you for one thing,” she said. “Don’t call anyone.”

“Whom?” Andrei asked.

Instead of answering, Galina took a printed sheet from the bag and placed it on the table. One address was written on it.

Then she added:

“That child is still waiting for you…”

Galina gripped the edge of the table so tightly that the joints of her fingers turned white. Andrei stood in front of her, while I was still looking at the photograph of the girl with the yellow backpack.

“Who is she?” Andrei asked.

Galina lowered her eyes.

“She is your daughter.”

It was as if the air disappeared from the room. The refrigerator’s sound stopped, and the roar of cars coming from the street also receded into the distance. I could hear only my heartbeat.

“What did you say?” Andrei pronounced with difficulty.

“That child is yours. Her name is Elene. She is nine years old.”

Andrei sank onto a chair. He placed his hands on his knees and could say nothing for a long time.

“Why didn’t I know?”

Galina opened the leather bag. Inside lay a copy of a birth certificate, a hospital document, and copies of the letters.

“Her mother, Marika, appeared in your life when you were studying at university. You did not reject her. On the contrary, after the child’s birth you were even planning to marry her.”

Andrei raised his head.

“Then why did you tell me that Marika had left and abandoned the child to someone else?”

Galina’s eyes filled with tears.

“Because I was afraid. Your father was waiting for a serious operation at that time, and you were planning to leave everything. I thought Marika was only asking you for money. Then she sent me letters. I did not give you a single one.”

“For years?”

“In the first year I thought I was doing it temporarily. After that I was already afraid to tell the truth.”

Andrei unfolded one of the letters. Marika wrote that Elene asked about him every day, that the child wanted to see her father, and that she was speaking not about money, but about an answer.

I asked:

“Where is Marika now?”

Galina breathed for a long time before answering.

“She is alive. She is raising Elene alone. She called me three days ago. She said she would not wait any longer. Then I also wrote to her that at last I had to reveal everything.”

Andrei picked up the phone.

“Give me her number.”

Galina dictated the number. The call went through, but no one answered. Marika picked up on the third try.

“Who is this?” a tired woman’s voice sounded.

Andrei moved his lips, but could not make a sound.

I placed my hand on his shoulder.

“Tell her,” I whispered.

“Marika, it’s Andrei.”

Silence fell on the other side.

Then the woman said through tears:

“I knew that one day you would find out. But now it is already too late. Elene is supposed to undergo an operation tomorrow morning, and the doctors are asking for her father’s consent.”

Andrei’s face turned completely pale.

“What operation?”

Marika replied that Elene had a serious kidney disease and that there was no time left. But before she sent us the address, another call came in. It was from the police station.

“Madam,” said an unfamiliar man, “a complaint has been filed in the name of Galina Beridze. Someone submitted evidence that she deliberately hid information about the child for years.”

Galina sat down on a chair. Andrei let the phone fall from his hand.

But the worst had not even begun yet. Marika added quietly:

“I did not file the complaint. Someone else did…”