“You wrote this?”
A long silence.
Then…
“Yes.”
Rachel slowly opened another envelope.
Inside was a cashier’s check.
Never deposited.
Still intact.
One hundred thousand dollars.
“I never touched it,” Rachel whispered.
“I mailed it back.”
My father closed his eyes.
“She never told me.”
My mother finally spoke.
“I thought I was protecting you.”
“No.”
I could barely recognize my own voice.
“You were controlling my life.”
“You would have thrown everything away.”
“I would have chosen.”
The words echoed through the apartment.
“I had that right.”
My father quietly removed one final document from his coat pocket.
“I found this yesterday.”
It was an unopened envelope.
Addressed to me.
Postmarked…
Four years ago.
Rachel gasped.
“My second letter.”
I tore it open carefully.
Inside…
Ultrasound photographs.
Three tiny heartbeats.
A handwritten note.
Evan…
I don’t know whether you’ll be happy or terrified.
But they’re ours.
