My uncle once asked me, ‘Are you a virgin?’ when I was already 27 years old. From that moment, I started to be afraid of him. And a few days later, when he took me to a hotel outside the city, he leaned close to my ear by the pool and whispered, ‘After the pool, come up to my room…’”

A sad smile crossed his face.

“I know enough to be afraid. Not enough to stop being afraid.”

Then he pushed the letter toward me.

“There’s an address on the second page. Sarah sent it to me. She says she has something Claire left behind, something that might explain why your father was so determined to keep her story buried.”

I unfolded the second page.

An address was written beneath a short message.

If Emily ever comes looking for answers, tell her she deserves to know the truth.

Below it was Sarah’s telephone number.

I stared at the paper for a long time.

Then I picked up my phone.

Richard didn’t stop me when I took a photograph of the letter. He didn’t ask me to promise secrecy. He didn’t insist that I stay in the room.

He simply sat quietly while I decided what to do.

I saved Sarah’s number.