“There was an accident, at a lake. It happened fast. Frank blamed himself for years, even though there was nothing anyone could have done.”
I sat down because my legs had stopped agreeing to hold me up.
“Why would he hide that from me?”
“After Miley died, his marriage came apart,” Caroline said. “He stopped talking to almost everyone. Stopped returning my calls, and we’d been close for years. He packed away every photograph, every toy, anything that would remind him he’d once been someone’s father.”
My eyes went back to the small star cutter on the table.
“The pancakes.”
“He made them for her first.”
PART THREE — What the Table Never Told Me
Caroline sat down across from me, folding her hands like she was steadying herself for what came next.
“Then one morning, not long after he married your mother, you climbed into his lap and fell asleep against him. When you woke up, you asked him if he knew how to make pancakes shaped like stars.”
