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…’”

“I should have told you a long time ago,” he said.

“Then tell me now.”

He placed the envelope on the desk.

“I can’t until you understand why I asked that question.”

I folded my arms across my chest.

“You keep saying that, but you haven’t explained anything.”

“You’re right.”

He took a slow breath.

“When your father died, I promised myself I would never allow what happened before your birth to destroy your life.”

I stared at him.

“Before my birth?”

He nodded.

“What happened before I was born?”

Richard opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Then he did something I had never seen him do before.

He looked afraid.

Not afraid of me.

Afraid of what would happen if he told me the truth.

“Emily, did your mother ever tell you why she and your father stopped speaking to certain members of the family?”

I shook my head slowly.