Then they could wait.
For once, I would be the one who decided whether to answer.
Laura left angry.
Michael left threatening lawyers he never hired.
Fiona stayed in the conference room after the others were gone.
She asked my lawyer if I was eating.
It was the first practical question any of them had asked in years.
He told her he could not share details.
She nodded.
Then she folded the hospital form carefully and put it back in the envelope like it was something fragile.
Two weeks later, I received three letters.
Laura’s came first.
It was four pages of explanation.
Work had been stressful.
The kids had schedules.
Holidays were complicated.
Grief had been hard for everyone.
She wrote many words without once writing sorry.
I put it in a drawer.
Michael’s came second.
It was one page.
He said I had embarrassed the family.
