Payment satisfied in full upon transfer of guardianship records pertaining to H.W., born March 14, 1985.
H.W.
Harold Whitmore.
My husband.
“What guardianship records?” Harold asked.
Grace said nothing.
Then the doorbell rang.
Three slow knocks followed.
Grace’s face changed.
“You know who’s outside,” Harold said.
“No.”
“Don’t open that door.”
He walked toward it.
Grace grabbed his arm.
“Don’t.”
“Why?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Because there are things you don’t understand.”
Harold pulled away.
“You removed my bedroom door because you said there should be no secrets between family.”
He opened the door.
An elderly man stood on the porch.
Tall. Thin. Silver-haired.
He looked at Harold, then Grace.
All the color disappeared from his face.
Harold frowned.
“Can I help you?”
The man’s eyes filled with tears.
Behind us, Grace whispered,
“No.”
The stranger looked at Harold.
“You have your father’s eyes.”
