Against my son’s heart.
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“You’re Laura,” she said.
I nodded.
Lily pressed her hand to her chest. “Ethan told me you’d have questions.”
My throat tightened. “Then I hope you have answers.”
“Some.”
Ethan’s letter felt different.
She sat beside Rebecca.
“Michael was your father?” I asked.
Lily nodded. “Daniel wasn’t.”
“Then all that money…”
“Guilt,” Rebecca said. “And responsibility. After what he did to Michael, he wanted to make sure Lily had what she needed.”
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Ethan told me you’d have questions.
I looked at Lily. “And Ethan knew all of this?”
“He found out before he died,” she said quietly. “Including that I needed a heart.”
“And he chose you?”
Her hand moved to her chest. “Yes. He did.”
Guilt and responsibility.
For months, I had thought losing Ethan meant my job was to hold on to every piece of him.
Looking at Lily, I finally understood what my son had understood first.
Love wasn’t always about holding on.
Sometimes it was choosing what could live after you let go.
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