Instead, she handed the letter to me.
Dear Rachel,
You don’t know me well, but I am Evan’s mother.
I received your letter before he did.
I am asking you, as one woman to another, to let him go.
He is about to inherit responsibilities that will consume his life.
A child right now would destroy everything he has worked toward.
He believes he loves you.
One day he will thank you for disappearing.
I am enclosing enough money to help you begin again.
Please don’t contact him.
I’ll make sure he believes you’ve chosen another life.
Margaret Hart.
The room stopped breathing.
I looked toward my mother, still connected on speakerphone.
“You wrote this?”
A long silence.
Then…
“Yes.”
Rachel slowly opened another envelope.
Inside was a cashier’s check.
Never deposited.
Still intact.
One hundred thousand dollars.
“I never touched it,” Rachel whispered.
“I mailed it back.”
My father closed his eyes.
“She never told me.”
My mother finally spoke.
“I thought I was protecting you.”
“No.”
I could barely recognize my own voice.
“You were controlling my life.”
“You would have thrown everything away.”
“I would have chosen.”
The words echoed through the apartment.
“I had that right.”
My father quietly removed one final document from his coat pocket.
“I found this yesterday.”
It was an unopened envelope.
Addressed to me.
Postmarked…
Four years ago.
Rachel gasped.
“My second letter.”
I tore it open carefully.
Inside…
Ultrasound photographs.
Three tiny heartbeats.
A handwritten note.
Evan…
I don’t know whether you’ll be happy or terrified.
But they’re ours.
Three babies.
Please come home.
I don’t want to do this without you.
Love always,
Rachel.
The paper shook in my hands.
Someone had written one word across the front before sealing it again.
DESTROYED
