The other said *Claire*.
Dad’s handwriting.
“He wrote these?”
“Three weeks ago. He was afraid he’d lose his nerve.”
I slipped both envelopes into my bag.
“We’re going back.”
“To the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Neither was ten years of lying.”
Mara started to object, but I shook my head.
“If my father is in the hospital, both his kids deserve to be there with him.”
Evan grabbed his jacket.
Mom was already beside Dad when we returned.
She saw Mara.
Then Evan.
Confusion spread across her face.
“Claire? Where have you been?”
I took the envelope bearing her name from my bag and handed it to her.
Dad’s handwriting.
“What is this?”
“The truth.”
We opened the letters together.
Dad wrote that he’d learned about Evan ten years earlier and panicked.
At first, he kept telling himself he’d confess later.
*After Christmas.*
*After Claire’s birthday.*
*Next week.*
But every passing year made the lie harder to undo.
Then came the sentence that broke something inside me.
*I wasn’t protecting you or your mother. I was protecting myself.*
*Evan deserved better than being hidden.*
*So did you.*
Mom covered her mouth.
Then we read another line.
*I was afraid of losing my family, so I lied to the people I was afraid to lose.*
Mom slowly looked at Evan.
“Are you Evan?”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
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