I kept the key in a velvet box under my bed. Through every move, every birthday, every version of myself I tried on like borrowed clothes, the key stayed. A talisman. A riddle without a question.
Dear Diary,
Let me explain.
Diary, I don’t know what I know. But my hands are shaking. And for the first time in years, I feel like I’m on the edge of something real. emily's diary - chapter 1