“All right.”
She looked past me toward the hallway.
The walls were covered with photographs. Chloe and Michael on their wedding day. Stella in her graduation gown. Charlotte wearing her nursing uniform. Violet holding a diploma. Evelyn standing beside one of her designs. Maya smiling in a school photograph.
Elena stared at them.
“You kept all their pictures.”
“Of course.”
She swallowed.
“I don’t know why I thought you would throw them away.”
I did not answer.
She handed me the envelope.
Inside was a letter addressed to all six daughters. It contained no demands, no excuses, and no request that they forgive her.
She had written that she was sorry for leaving, sorry for missing their childhoods, and sorry for allowing pride to keep her away.
She acknowledged that they owed her nothing.
“If they ever want to speak to me,” she said, “I’ll be grateful. If they don’t, I’ll have to accept that.”
