“I knew your name
appeared on an envelope,” she said.
“That isn’t an answer,” I said.
My mother turned toward me, and for the first time since I had returned, she looked older than her pearls and pressed blouse could hide. “Daniel, there are things your father did not explain. There are things he left unfinished. I tried to protect this family from confusion.”
“By locking away letters?” Emma asked.
Margaret drew herself upright. “By preventing old mistakes from destroying new lives.”
Jennifer stood near the desk, pale and restless, her arms wrapped around herself. Michael, who had spent years treating every serious moment like an inconvenience, looked completely lost.
“What old mistakes?” he asked. “Mom, what is happening?”
Margaret did not look at him.
That told me he truly didn’t know.
Samuel Reed, who had been reading the first letter again, carefully placed it on the desk. His expression had become the one
