I pressed the letters against his chest.
“You let me mourn her every day.”
His face changed.
“No, Mom. You kept digging the grave because it was easier than asking why she left.”
“I am your mother.”
“And she is my twin.”
“You hid my grandchild from me.”
“Rose isn’t a prize you lost,” Liam said. “She is a baby Livia was afraid to bring near you.”
The room seemed to tilt beneath me.
“I loved her. I gave her everything.”
“Everything except room to disappoint you.”
John stood in the doorway, silent.
I turned to him. “Tell him I only wanted to protect her.”
John looked down at the letters.
“Camila,” he said quietly, “sometimes you don’t give people room to be themselves.”
Liam wiped his face with his sleeve.
“You both made this house feel like a courtroom,” he said. “Mom judged. Dad settled. And Livia and I waited for the sentence.”
