Chapter 2: The Envelope With My Name On It
Part 2 ⬇️
I stood there gripping the door frame, my heart hammering.
She looked up at me with those same eyes — but the arrogance was completely gone.
What replaced it was something I never expected to see on Brenda's face.
Desperation.
"Please," she whispered.
"I have nowhere else to go."
I almost laughed.
Almost.
"You have nowhere to go," I repeated slowly.
"That's interesting, Brenda.
Because I remember standing on a doorstep once too."
She flinched.
Good.
"I'm not asking for much," she said, her voice cracking.
"Just a few nights.
I'll explain everything, I promise."
"Where's my father?"
The question came out before I could stop it.
She looked away — and that tiny movement sent ice straight through me.
"Brenda." My voice dropped.
"Where is he?"
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Then reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled envelope.
My name was written on the front in handwriting I hadn't seen in ten years.
My father's handwriting.
"He asked me to give you this," she said quietly.
"Before everything fell apart."
My hands were shaking as I reached for it — and then my baby girl started crying inside the house.
Brenda's eyes moved past me toward the sound, and something crossed her face that I couldn't read.
"You have a child," she said softly.
Almost to herself.
"Don't." My voice came out harder than I intended.
But she was already staring at the envelope in my hands with an expression that looked less like guilt and more like fear.
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What's inside that envelope — and why does Brenda look afraid of it?
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The full truth is darker than you think.
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