Inside was a photograph.
A photograph I had not seen in more than fifteen years.
A photograph of a young girl standing beside a woman everyone believed had disappeared from my life forever.
My mother.
Julian watched my face carefully.
“Who is she?”
I looked down at the photograph.
And for the first time in years, the carefully built walls around my past began to crack.
“She’s the reason I became the person you married.”
Julian frowned.
“I don’t understand.”
Neither did I.
Because underneath the photograph was a handwritten note.
A note written in my mother’s handwriting.
A note dated only six months ago.
A note that should not have existed.
My hands shook as I unfolded it.
There were only seven words.
But those seven words changed everything.
“I know the truth about your father.”
I looked up at Julian.
He was watching me.
Waiting.
