“Give it to me.”
“Sophie…”
“Give me the letter.”
I promised myself I would never give you.
Her hand shook as she passed it over. “I found it after your father’s funeral.”
“Three years ago?”
“Yes.”
“And you hid it.”
“I thought knowing would only hurt you.”
Give me the letter.
“You didn’t get to decide that.”
I tore it open.
‘Sophie,
There is something about my life I should have told you years ago.’
Mom stared at the floor.
Knowing would only hurt you.
I kept reading.
‘When you were little, I betrayed your mother with a woman named Linda. There is no excuse for it. I hurt your mother, and I nearly destroyed our family.’
My hands began to shake.
‘What I did not know then was that Linda became pregnant.’
I looked up.
I should have told you years ago.
Mom had gone pale.
“You didn’t know.”
