“And?”
“And he knew Mom’s name. Knew her illness. Knew the exact date she died.”
My mouth went dry.
“He said Mom asked him to contact me when Dad remarried,” my brother continued. “Specifically, when Dad married Laura.”
I felt a cold line crawl down my spine.
“He said Mom asked him to contact me when Dad remarried.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would she—”
“She found out,” Robert cut in.
“Found out what?”
He didn’t answer immediately. He pulled an envelope from inside his jacket. Thick. Cream-colored. Sealed.
“She wrote this when she already knew she was dying. She asked him to keep it until the right moment.”
My eyes locked onto the envelope.
