eighteen.
Every envelope was written in Carl’s handwriting.
Underneath them was another envelope.
Olivia.
“How long have you had these?”
Dad didn’t answer quickly enough.
“Dad.”
“Carl sent them over the years.”
“So you’ve heard from him?”
“Now and again.”
“And you knew more than I did?”
His eyes dropped.
“Yes.”
That nearly broke me.
Thirteen years earlier, when our twin daughters were five, my whole life had already fallen apart.
Emily had complained that her chest felt strange. Within an hour, paramedics were in our living room. Carl carried Lily into another room so she wouldn’t see her sister surrounded by strangers.
A few hours later, a doctor told me Emily hadn’t survived.
After the funeral, I thought Carl and I would somehow hold each other together.
Instead, he found me alone in the kitchen.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this
