I raised my 7 grandchildren alone after their parents’ funeral — 10 years later, my youngest granddaughter handed me a box and whispered, “Grandma, Mom and Dad didn’t die that night.”

“Grandma, I can explain.”

“Then explain why I’ve been visiting two graves for ten years.”

He sat down slowly.

“I didn’t know what to do.”

He told me the first letter had arrived about three months after the accident.

At first, he believed someone was playing a cruel joke.

Then another letter came, containing the photograph and details only his parents would know.

Silas had written that he and Bree had left town because his business was in serious trouble.

He had borrowed money he couldn’t repay and was afraid he would face criminal charges.

They’d planned to leave the children with me for a few weeks while they found somewhere else to live.

Then they’d learned that their vehicle had been involved in a fatal accident and that everyone believed they were inside.

Instead of correcting the mistake, they disappeared.

“They said they’d come back for us,” Miles whispered. “Dad promised they’d get everything sorted out.”