She rehearsed what she would say, then forgot every prepared sentence the moment a woman answered.
“My name is Emma,” she began. “I don’t know if you remember me.”
There was a long silence.
Then the woman whispered, “I’ve been waiting eighteen years to hear your voice.”
Emma closed her eyes.
“I’m not calling to discuss Lucas.”
“I understand.”
“I’m calling because my father left me your photograph and a letter. He told me you wanted to meet your granddaughter.”
Helena began to cry.
“I did. I wanted to. But I was a coward, Emma. I let my husband decide what was right. I told myself that staying quiet was the only way to keep peace in my family.”
“And what about keeping me safe?”
The question hung between them.
Helena did not defend herself.
“I should have stood up for you,” she said. “I should have challenged my husband. I should have done more than cry after the damage was done. I can’t ask you to forgive me for that.”
