His eyes red.
And in his hands was a large envelope.
When he looked up, I barely recognized him.
“Sit down.”
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?”
He handed me the envelope.
The handwriting on the front made my heart stop.
It was Mom’s.
I looked at him.
“What is this?”
Frank swallowed hard.
“A letter.”
“A letter?”
“For you.”
My hands began shaking.
“Why didn’t you give it to me before?”
His eyes filled with tears again.
“Because I didn’t know it existed.”
I opened the envelope carefully.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
Several pages long.
The date at the top was six months before Mom died.
I started reading.
My dear daughter,
If you’re reading this, then something has gone terribly wrong.
I frowned.
The next line made my pulse race.
Because if everything happened the way I planned, you should have received this
immediately after my funeral.
I looked up at Frank.
He looked miserable.
I continued reading.
First, I need you to know something.
I have loved you every day of your life.
Nothing and no one could ever change that.
Tears instantly filled my eyes.
I kept reading.
The reason my will appears to leave everything to Frank is because the house was
already legally his before I became sick.
There was never a way for me to leave it to you.
But that does not mean I left you nothing.
My hands trembled.
I turned the page.
Inside the safety deposit box at First County Bank are documents transferring
ownership of my investments, life insurance proceeds, and personal assets directly
to you.
The total value should be enough to take care of you for a very long time.
I stared at the words.
Certain I had misunderstood.
Then I saw the account numbers.
The instructions.
The signatures.
Everything.
It was real.
Very real.
I looked at Frank.
“What is this?”
He covered his face.
“I found the safety deposit key.”
My heart pounded.
“What?”
“It was hidden inside one of her old sewing kits.”
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Frank pointed toward the boxes.
“I’ve been going through her things.”
His voice cracked.
“And then I found another letter.”
He handed it over.
This one was addressed to him.
I read it silently.
Frank,
If you’re reading this, I need you to do something for me.
Make sure my daughter receives everything I intended for her.
And if anyone ever makes her feel unwanted, remind them that she was the
greatest gift of my life.
By then I couldn’t see through the tears.
The ink blurred.
My vision shook.
I lowered the letter.
Tyler entered the room just then.
For the first time in his life, he wasn’t smiling.