One side held a baby picture of me. The other showed Anna in a hospital bed holding a child against her chest. She looked exhausted and happy.
“Is that me?”
She nodded.
The back of the locket had an engraving:
“From your mother, who was always closer than you knew.”
“Is that me?”
I couldn’t speak for a few seconds.
“That’s what you were going to give me on my 13th birthday?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
“Now I understand why you said it was something I’d understand when I was older.”
I couldn’t speak.
“Yes. You were old enough to start asking harder questions. I didn’t want you becoming an adult without knowing who I was.”
I closed the locket in my palm.
“So Dad found out about your gift?”
“I told him.”
That surprised me.
“You told him?”
“I told him.”
“I thought he’d be angry. But I didn’t expect him to panic again.”
