He simply sat there, looking like a man who had finally realized that a decision made out of love could still hurt the person he was trying to protect.
I took a shaky breath.
“What was in the package?”
He glanced at my phone.
“The original check. A photograph of your childhood home. And a letter.”
“Why send it now?”
For the first time that morning, something like peace crossed his face.
“Because I finally have something I want you to see.”
My mother spoke urgently.
“Olivia, please. Before you judge me, you need to understand that I was trying to protect you.”
I closed my eyes.
“Mom, I spent years listening to you talk about Dad as if losing our house had erased everything good he ever did.”
“I never said he didn’t love you.”
“You said love didn’t pay the bills.”
“Because it didn’t!”
Her voice rose, and for the first time, I heard something beneath her anger that sounded like terror.
