Claire pressed her hand over her mouth.
I remembered that birthday. I remembered the balloons – Emma insisted on purple, Sophie on green, Claire on silver. I remembered laughing on the porch steps, thinking my girls had everything they needed.
And six houses away, their mother had been sitting in a parked car, choosing to leave again.
That’s on Her
Emma was crying openly now. Claire’s shoulders shook.
Sophie didn’t cry.
She picked up the next letter and tore it cleanly in half.
“Sophie—”
“No.”
She tore it again.
“Daniel lied to her. Fine. That’s on him.” Another tear. “But after she found out? After she knew exactly where we were?”
She let the pieces fall onto the carpet.
“That’s on her.”
Nobody argued. There was nothing to argue with.
At the bottom of the bundle was one last card. Not a letter – just a phone number and a few lines.
