I looked up.
“You were there?”
Mom nodded.
“Your father and I had been married for four years. We had tried to have children, but it never happened. Margaret knew how much we wanted a family.”
She paused to wipe her eyes.
“When she realized her condition was becoming dangerous, she made us promise something.”
“What?”
“She asked us to raise you if she didn’t survive.”
I looked down at the letter.
“Did she know she might die?”
“The doctors had warned her about complications. She was frightened, but she kept telling us she wanted to meet you.”
Mom reached into the box and produced another photograph.
It showed Margaret lying in a hospital bed, holding my tiny hand.
Thomas stood beside her, his eyes red from crying.
Evelyn was on the other side of the bed.
On the back, Margaret had written three words.
Keep her loved.
I could no longer hold back my tears.
