I laid the letter on the table. “I know this wasn’t written ten years ago. The ink is fresh. The envelope wasn’t touched by cobwebs.”
Daniel’s disappointment was heavy. “You went into our home, Susan?”
“I wanted her to know the truth!” she snapped.
“The truth,” Daniel countered, “or a version that makes you feel better about leaving? I was a mess after the crash. Angry, lost. But I didn’t make you leave those babies.”
“You rebuilt everything like I was the villain!” she cried.
“You left,” Daniel said firmly. “I told the girls the truth when they asked. But Susan, they stopped asking about you years ago.”
Her shoulders slumped. “You only know the Daniel that’s healed,” she told me. “You don’t know what he was like.”
