“That’s what bothers me.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because Dad always said he went to the station after saying goodbye to you. He said he was there when his father told him your family wanted nothing to do with him.”
I studied the photograph.
“Your father told you that?”
“He told me after my grandmother died. He said his father had given him a letter from your mother and told him you had asked him to stay away.”
“My mother never gave him a letter.”
“No.”
“Then where did that story come from?”
Lucas ran a hand over his face.
“My grandfather.”
The room quieted.
Douglas’s father had died in 1993, long before either of us knew the truth. Every explanation we had been given seemed to lead back to someone who could no longer answer for it.
“What did he say exactly?” I asked.
Lucas reached into his coat pocket and removed his phone.
