“Yes.”
“So for thirteen years you knew he believed Emily inherited this condition from him.”
“Yes.”
“And you let me believe he walked away because he stopped loving me.”
“I knew guilt was part of it.”
“Part of it?”
I pushed the papers onto the table.
“Dad, guilt does not explain abandoning your living child.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
My voice cracked.
“Because Lily spent years wondering why her father didn’t want her.”
Before Dad could respond, a voice came from behind me.
“Mom?”
I turned.
Lily stood in the kitchen doorway.
My heart sank.
She looked from me to her grandfather.
Then at the open box.
Her eyes fell on one envelope.
For Lily — Age Twelve.
She walked closer.
“What is this?”
Every instinct inside me screamed to close the box.
To send her upstairs.
To protect her until I understood the truth myself.
Then I looked at my father.
For thirteen years, two men had decided how much truth I was strong enough to carry.
I would not continue that pattern with my daughter.
“Sit down, Lil.”
Dad shifted uneasily.
“Olivia, perhaps we should—”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“She deserves the truth. Even if I only learned it five minutes ago.”
