All those years thinking she’d moved on. All those unanswered questions.
And finally this.
“There’s one we didn’t read,” my daughter said. She stepped forward and handed me a single envelope.
It was sealed. Untouched.
“And what did they say?”
“That one felt different,” Mia said. “Like it wasn’t meant for us. Also, the envelope is addressed to you.”
I took it slowly.
“Dad… you should read it,” she added.
The weight of it sat heavily in my hands.
“You’ve had it all these years?”
“We didn’t know how to give it to you. We weren’t sure what her last words to you were, and we worried they might be bad news for us. Maybe she was asking you to stay far away and find a life of your own,” Kira said.
“Dad… you should read it.”
