“My mind is clear.” He tightened his grip. “Everything you believe about your childhood, about who I am… is incomplete.”
My heartbeat accelerated.
“What are you talking about?”
“I need you to discover the truth before I die, even though I was begged to take it to my grave.”
Questions rushed through my head faster than I could process them.
Was my biological father still alive?
Had Frank kept letters from me?
Had there been another family?
Was there an entire part of his life I had never known existed?
With trembling fingers, Frank reached beneath the blanket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
He pushed it into my hand.
“Go there. Now.”
“I can’t leave you.”
“You have to.” Tears disappeared into the gray stubble on his jaw. “Please, Rosalie.”
He had not called me Rosalie in that tone since I was little.
I leaned closer over the bed.
