Something about the room seemed to close around me.
“Frank was married before he met your mother,” Caroline revealed. “Miley was his daughter.”
My fingers tightened around the edges of the photograph.
“Where is she?”
Caroline lowered her eyes.
“She died when she was five.”
The quietness of those words somehow made them worse.
“There was an accident at a lake. It happened quickly. Frank blamed himself even though there was nothing he could have done.”
I dropped into a chair because my legs could no longer support me.
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“After Miley died, his marriage collapsed,” Caroline said. “He stopped speaking to people. He stopped answering my calls. We were best friends. He packed away every photograph, every toy, every reminder that he had ever been a father.”
My gaze returned to the small star-shaped cutter.
“The pancakes.”
“He made them for Miley.”
Caroline sat opposite me.
