whatever you want with them.”
She opened it.
One of Carl’s later letters said:
“I spent years telling myself staying away was the one decent thing I had done. I’m old enough now to know that sometimes cowardice learns better words for itself.”
The letters didn’t redeem him. They only made everything more complicated.
Then Lily looked at me.
“I want to talk to him.”
“No.”
The word came out before I’d thought about it.
Her expression changed.
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“You just said I get to know.”
“You do.”
“But only the parts you choose?”
That stopped me.
Dad had decided what I was allowed to know. I wasn’t going to make Lily’s choices for her.
“I need until tomorrow,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because I just found out the story I’ve lived with for thirteen years wasn’t the whole story. Give me
