There’s one thing he never wanted you to find out.”
Anna pointed at the seal.
“Open it.”
My fingers barely worked as I slid them beneath the flap.
The moment I saw what was inside, tears ran down my face before I even understood I was crying.
“Open it.”
I looked up.
Anna was crying too.
“No,” I whispered.
She nodded.
“Yes.”
My mother died when I was a baby.
My dad, Richard, never talked about her.
He told me her name was Laura, and that she had complications after giving birth.
There were no photos in the house.
Whenever I asked why, Dad said grief had made him put everything away.
Anna was crying too.
I believed him.
Why wouldn’t I?
Anna had cared for me since I was eight months old.
She was the closest thing I had to a mother.
Dad worked long hours while Anna cared
