what you want from him.”
Then I looked at Dad.
“And you will never keep another truth from me because you think I can’t survive it.”
His eyes filled.
“I won’t.”
“And I decide if and when I forgive either of you.”
That night, Lily brought the final envelope into Emily’s room.
For Lily — Age Eighteen.
“Want me to go?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“Stay.”
So I did.
She opened the letter herself.
And this time, protecting my daughter didn’t mean standing between her and the truth.
It meant sitting beside her, in the room that still remembered her sister, while Lily decided what came next.
