**DO NOT INFORM THE MOTHER.**
I pressed a hand against my mouth.
"My father knew."
Evelyn nodded sadly.
"Yes, sweetheart. He knew."
***
I went to my parents' house that afternoon.
My mother opened the door.
She looked as though she hadn't slept.
"Sarah."
I stepped inside.
"Where's Dad?"
"In his study."
She reached for my arm.
"Please don't be too hard on him."
I stared at her.
"He let me believe a playground accident blinded me."
Tears filled her eyes.
"I know."
"He watched me struggle for twenty years."
"I know."
"Then what exactly am I supposed to forgive?"
She lowered her head.
I walked past her.
My father sat behind his old wooden desk.
He was seventy-one now.
For most of my life, I had imagined his face from the warmth of his voice.
Seeing him for the first time had been one of the happiest moments after my surgery.
