“Are you Claire?”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Mara.”
“Why were you visiting my husband?”
“Jack asked me to bring you this.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I know.” She held out the envelope. “He asked me to give this to you only after his death. Not before.”
My hands were shaking.
“What is it?”
Mara looked at me strangely.
“So you really don’t know what he left you?”
That sentence scared me more than the cardigan ever had.
I snatched the envelope.
Jack’s handwriting was on the first page.
Claire,
I’m sorry you’re learning this without me.
There’s a five-year-old boy named Ethan.
You don’t owe him anything. If you want to stop here, stop.
But if you find him, you’ll understand why I couldn’t walk away.
I’m sorry I never told you.
I read it twice, suddenly so light-headed that I thought I might faint.
