Ella POV
The contents of the box were baffling. It was filled with a chaotic assortment of papers: business receipts, handwritten letters from people whose names I didn’t recognize—or who hadn’t signed them at all.
From the few lines I skimmed, the letters seemed meaningless, scattered fragments of someone else’s life. I wasn’t willing to sit and read them one by one. That still felt like too much of a violation of Alexander’s privacy.
I carefully began separating the contents into piles: receipts, letters, technical documents that might as well have been written in a foreign language for all I understood them, and photos.
There weren’t many photos, but the ones I found did little to illuminate the mystery of who Alexander was or what he was hiding.
A few were of him as a yo
