“Something your father left me.”
Her expression hardened.
“Of course he did.”
I opened it.
I started with the photograph.
Their parents were standing beside my mother.
Brad picked it up.
“Who’s that?”
“My mother.”
He looked at me.
Stephanie frowned.
“What was your mother doing with our parents?”
So I told them.
Not dramatically.
I didn’t need to.
I showed them the agreement.
The canceled checks.
The letters.
Linda’s note.
Frank’s letter.
By the time I finished, Stephanie had stopped moving.
Brad stared at the table.
Stephanie whispered, “Mom knew?”
“Yes.”
“And Dad knew who you were when he met you?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes moved toward me.
“Did you?”
“No.”
For once, she believed me immediately.
Brad picked up the original agreement.
“Thirty-two thousand?”
“In 1987.”
He ran a hand over his face.
“Dad never told us.”
“No.”
Stephanie looked pale.
“Why?”
