The retired nurse lived on the second floor of an aging brick building in a quiet neighborhood.
She welcomed Emily inside, poured two cups of tea, and retrieved a brown envelope from a cabinet.
“Your father gave me this about four years ago,” Elizabeth explained. “We stayed in touch after Sophie was born. He trusted me.”
Emily carefully opened the envelope.
Inside were copies of old documents, several faded photographs, and a handwritten letter.
She recognized her father’s handwriting immediately.
Her eyes filled with tears before she had even finished the first sentence.
My dear Emily,
If you’re reading this, Sophie is finally eighteen.
There’s something I should have told you many years ago.
When you gave birth, Lucas’s parents came to our house.
They offered us money to stop demanding accountability and support from their family.
I refused.
Then Lucas’s father threatened to do everything in his power to make it look as though you were responsible for what had happened.
