After My Son’s Sudden Medical Emergency, I Discovered a Note That Led Me to Important Answers

“The box is upstairs.”

Letters. Stacks of them, along with birthday cards and returned envelopes, my name in Andrew’s handwriting.

My legs gave out, and I sat on the floor.

Leo dropped beside me.

Gwen handed me the first envelope with both hands, like it might tear.

“Start there,” she said.

I opened it.

Leo dropped beside me.

“Heather,

I know this looks bad. Please don’t believe I left you. I’m trying to come back. I promise.

— A.”

The air left my lungs.

“Mom?” Leo whispered.

I couldn’t answer. I grabbed another letter.

“I don’t know if you hate me. My mother says you do. I don’t believe her, but I don’t know how to reach you otherwise.”

“Oh no, no, no,” I muttered.

“I know this looks bad.”

Leo moved closer. “What is it?”

“He thought I hated him.”

Gwen let out a shaky breath. “That’s what our mother told him. She didn’t just lie, Heather. She stole eighteen years from all of you.”

I opened the third letter so fast I almost tore it.

“If it’s a boy, I hope he laughs like you do when you’re really happy.”

My hand flew to my mouth.