For the first time, I was afraid that the truth might be worse than not knowing.
When we got home, I slipped the envelope into a kitchen drawer.
Lucas dropped his backpack beside the table.
“Who was that woman?”
“Someone who knew your mom.”
His face immediately brightened.
“Really? What did she say?”
“Not much.”
“Did she know my dad?”
I closed the drawer too quickly.
“I don’t know.”
Lucas watched me.
“You always say that.”
“Because there are things I genuinely don’t know, sweetheart.”
He went quiet.
That was something Teagan used to do too.
I hated seeing it in him.
After Lucas went to bed, I stood alone in the kitchen holding the envelope.
Then I finally opened it.
A photograph slipped onto the counter.
Teagan was standing beside a teenage boy.
