“It belongs to you.”
She stared at the handwriting across the front.
Not mine.
Not hers.
Margaret Hart.
My mother’s handwriting.
Rachel carefully broke the seal.
Inside rested several folded letters tied together with faded blue ribbon.
The earliest one carried a date.
Four years earlier.
Rachel unfolded it with trembling hands.
As she read the first lines…
Her knees nearly gave way.
I caught her before she fell.
“What is it?”
She couldn’t speak.
Instead, she handed the letter to me.
Dear Rachel,
You don’t know me well, but I am Evan’s mother.
I received your letter before he did.
I am asking you, as one woman to another, to let him go.
He is about to inherit responsibilities that will consume his life.
A child right now would destroy everything he has worked toward.
He believes he loves you.
One day he will thank you for disappearing.
