Chapter 12: A Message from Beyond the Grave

Lulu sat cross-legged on her hotel bed, absentmindedly twisting a loose thread on the blanket while Henry paced in front of her.

"There has to be a way," Henry muttered, running a hand through his ghostly hair. "There must be a way to get her to completely forgive me…"

Lulu sighed. "I mean, technically, you already said what you needed to say. The letter was a good effort."

Henry immediately shook his head, "Elise was right. It was full of excuses and justifications. I wouldn't forgive myself for everything I put her and John through either…"

'John…her husband's name is John Johnson? I wonder how much thought his parent put into that one?'

Lulu propped her chin on her hand. "It's not too late. We just have to figure out another way to get through to her."

Henry rubbed his jaw, thoughtful. "There's my journal."

Lulu arched a brow. "You kept a journal?"

He nodded. "I wrote in it for years between the time my wife died and until a few years after Elise left—it was suggested by a therapist. It's… somewhere in my study."

She made a face. "You want me to go all the way back to your house and then come back here again?"

Henry hesitated, then sighed. "No, I suppose not. It might take too long to find since I'm not even sure where it is. Not to mention, for years I was convinced that I was in the right, I likely would have written down an apology anywhere in there—it may even just make things worse."

Lulu spread her hands. "Alright then, what else you got?"

Henry was silent for a moment. Then, with uncharacteristic hesitation, he murmured, "There is… one thing."

Lulu sat up straighter. "Yeah?"

He swallowed, suddenly looking unsure. "I, um… I never cancelled my wife's phone number."

Lulu blinked. "Okay? And?" Lulu didn't really see the usefulness of that little piece of knowledge.

"I would leave messages on her voicemail up until I died," he admitted, voice quieter now. "Just… talking to her. Like she was still there."

Lulu's fingers stilled against the blanket. "Oh."

Henry gave her a sheepish glance. "It's ridiculous, I know."

She shook her head. "It's not. Grief makes people do all sorts of things. And if it helped…"

He exhaled, looking distant. "I think I still remember the code to access the voicemail."

Lulu hesitated. "Are you sure you want me to listen?"

Henry gave a wry smile. "You think I'd suggest it if I weren't desperate? Although I'm a little embarrassed, Elise will be listening to them all anyway."

She sighed. "Fair point."

He recited the code, and she punched it into her phone. After a few rings, the automated system came to life: "You have 450 saved messages."

Lulu winced. "450?" Lulu didn't even know it was possible to store that many.

Henry's expression was unreadable. "I paid for extra storage. I left messages daily when she first passed away, then it faded to weekly messages, then monthly, and then only when I desperately felt the need to talk to her. Many of the older ones had actually been deleted as I ran out of space, otherwise, there may be up to 1000."

Biting her lip, she selected the first one.

A pause. Then, a soft beep.

"Hey, Ellie darling. It's me."

Lulu stiffened at the voice—so much younger, rougher with emotion, but it still vaguely resembled the voice of the elderly Henry.

"I just… I miss you," he continued, voice breaking. "God, I miss you so much. I hope you don't mind me calling. It helps. Talking to you."

Lulu swallowed, stealing a glance at Henry. He was silent, staring at nothing as if he could still hear his past self.

"I promise I'll take care of Elise," the recorded Henry said. "She's doing so well. You'd be so proud of her, sweetheart. She's stronger than I ever realized. Even after everything, she pulled herself together, and graduated top of her class."

A shaky laugh. "She wants to study pre-med. Can you believe that? She says she wants to help treat people—people like you."

Lulu's grip tightened on the phone.

"She's amazing," Henry murmured in the message. "She's going to do great things. I just hope—"

A deep inhale. "I just hope she knows how much I love her."

The message ended with a final beep.

Lulu sat frozen, fingers hovering over the next recording. But something about it felt too… personal.

She swallowed and tapped the screen, saving the message before locking her phone.

Henry let out a long breath. "It's strange, hearing yourself from decades ago like that."

Lulu nodded. "Yeah."

He turned to her. "Do you think… this will be enough?"

She exhaled slowly. "I don't know what the others say. But it's something."

For the first time since she met him, Henry looked hopeful.