“Then what did you hide?”
Jonathan looked toward the couple, then back at me.
“If you love me, you won’t lie to me anymore.”
“She wanted to explain that herself,” he said.
Then he reached inside his jacket.
He pulled out a folded piece of paper.
My name was written across the front.
Mom.
“She wanted to explain that herself,”
I recognized Mary’s handwriting immediately.
My anger disappeared for one second, replaced by something worse.
“When did she write that?”
“Last week.”
“You’ve had it since then?”
“When did she write that?”
“She made me promise not to give it to you until… after.”
I took the letter from him.
“I need to read this alone.”
“Grace—”
I walked out before anyone could stop me.
“She made me promise not to give it to you until… after.”
The hospital chapel was empty.
I sat in the back row and unfolded the letter.
