“That makes absolutely no sense.”
“I know.”
“Who would try to convince me my family wasn’t real?”
Rebecca opened her mouth.
Daniel interrupted.
“Mom.”
She looked at him.
“Not yet.”
“Not yet?” I snapped. “You slept with me last night and left a photograph of my dead husband beside the bed. You don’t get to decide when I learn the truth.”
Daniel flinched.
For the first time, shame crossed his face.
“I didn’t plan last night.”
“You planned meeting me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Emily was supposed to introduce us.”
My grip tightened around the door.
On my phone, Emily whispered, “Mom, I’m sorry.”
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“You arranged this?”
“No! Not last night.”
Daniel spoke carefully.
“Emily and I had been communicating for about three weeks.”
I turned the phone toward myself.
“Three weeks?”
Emily said nothing.
“How did he contact you?”
“He sent me a letter.”
“What kind of letter?”
