had been watching over my life the entire time.
Richie found me there later that morning.
When I showed him the letters, he wrapped his arms around me.
“We’ll figure this out,” he said softly.
That afternoon I called my mother.
When she arrived and read the letters, the truth finally came out.
She had been nineteen when I was born.
Her parents forced her to choose.
Keep the baby.
Or keep the father.
So she chose me.
And my father spent the rest of his life living next door to a daughter who never knew who he was.
Leave a Comment