A long one.
Then he whispered, “Where did you find it?”
The admission sat between us like a third person.
“In Julian’s studio.”
“I can explain.”
I closed my eyes.
“Did you hide it?”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“That is not an answer.”
His voice was rough. “Yes.”
The word cut deeper than his anniversary laugh because this was not carelessness. This was choice.
“Why?”
“You were leaving,” he said. “The fellowship. Florence. I was terrified you would go and discover a life that didn’t include me.”
“So you took my mother’s voice away from me.”
He made a sound like pain.
“I told myself I was protecting us.”
“No,” I said. “You were protecting yourself.”
The line went quiet.
Then Grant said, “There’s more.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“What more?”
“I wasn’t the only one who knew about the letter.”
Behind me, Lena stopped moving.
“Who else?”
Grant exhaled shakily.
“Julian.”
I turned slowly toward the studio window, where Julian’s reflection stood behind me, pale and silent, holding another sealed envelope I had not seen before.
