Hidden letters *complete*

Some things are not meant to be discovered. And the letters Adele found are one of these things.


3. Chapter Three

I sat comfortably and started to read the letter, excited.


Dear Lucy,


“Excuse me, miss, my seat is just next to yours.” I heard an old man telling me. I looked up at him, annoyed to be disturbed, but I smiled and stood up to let him reach his seat. He walked toward it and sat. I did the same quickly and lifted up the sheet of paper in front of my face; hoping not to be disturbed again.

“I really like going to London. I know it’s a huge city but there are some places in which you feel so well that it’s hard to believe that it’s that big,” the man sitting next to me started to speak. I don’t really mind when someone speaks to me on a journey – some old ladies often like to talk with their neighbours in the bus – but it really isn’t the right moment to be spoken to! I smiled at him politely while secretly looking for a way to make him stop speaking. But I shouldn’t have done so because he seemed to think I was thrilled by what he was saying, so he carried on,

“Unluckily I don’t go there as often as I’d like to; I have to stay at home to look after my grandson when my son has to work till late the evening. But I decided to go there for a few days; I really deserve to take a short break,” he sighed. I nodded shyly, not wanting to revive the conversation. I put the letter in my pocket, wondering when I’d be able to read it. But he didn’t seem to care whether I speak or not.

“I haven’t planned what I’m going to visit or do there yet. I’ll see later, I’m not in a hurry as I’m still not even arrived,” he laughed slightly.

“I’m sorry; I need to go to the restroom. I don’t want to seem rude but...” He nodded and I ran away. I rushed into the restroom, took the letter out of my pocket and began reading it now that I knew I wouldn’t be disturbed.



Dear Lucy,

I’m really missing you.

I tried to go and see you at your house but you were gone. I tried to call you but you never answered to any of my calls. I tried to ask your neighbours about your current whereabouts but none of them was able to give me any good information. I tried everything I could to get in touch with you but it wasn’t enough. I would still be looking for you if one of your friends hadn’t told me that your parents were still living at the same place. I went to see them but they refused to tell me where you were.

So I decided to write this letter to you and to leave it at your parent’s house; I know they will give it to you. They don’t seem to trust me but it’s only a letter, isn’t it?

I wish I knew why you went away. I hope it has nothing to do with me. But if it does, then forgive me about it, whatever it is, please.

I can’t live without you. I love you,




My mother had a secret admirer! But apart from that I don’t understand anything else. She never got this letter; or any others. Then, it means that the letters must have been given to my father and not to my mother; and he hid them.

I got out of the restroom and went to sit back next to the old man. A huge smile appeared on his face when he saw me coming back. He started to talk again but I didn’t hear a single word he said. I tried to understand what I read but I was too confused. If my father hid them, it’s obviously because he was jealous but who the hell was he jealous of? Who is H.S? As far as I know, none of my mother’s friends has a name that begins with a H. I really want to know what this is all about but I can’t call my parents and say, “Hey! Mum, dad, does any of you know someone whose initials are H.S? You know the one who wrote letters to mum but dad hid them in the garage!” No, I just can’t.

I sighed loudly as the train stopped. I said goodbye to the man and rushed outside. I called a taxi and gave the chauffeur the address of my flat. I looked through the window during the journey; excitement growing in me.

Once there, I paid the driver and made my way to my flat. As I walked up the stairs, I wondered who my flatmate is; it would have been too expensive to live in a flat on my own so I’m going to share the flat with another girl but I know nothing about her. I reached the front door and opened it. Then, I slowly walked in and went into the living room. There was sitting a girl on the couch. She rushed toward me, a huge smile on her face and her long curly brown hair floating on her back.

“It’s so nice to meet you at last, flatmate!” she giggled. She held her hand out,

“I’m Darcy Styles.”

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