Chapter 2: The Letter That Was Never Sent
Part 2 — continued from the comments ⬇️
"My thirtieth birthday," Whitney said.
"Mom told me you didn't come because you were angry about the venue."
I went still.
"She told me you thought I was showing off."
"Whitney, I didn't come because Mom told me you wanted a small family dinner.
Just the three of you."
Silence.
"She said the same thing to me about your promotion dinner," Whitney said slowly.
"That you'd told her you didn't want a fuss.
That you found big gatherings stressful."
My hand tightened around the phone.
"I waited at that restaurant for forty minutes."
"Clara—"
"I had a table for four.
I thought everyone was just running late."
Whitney made a sound I had never heard from her before.
Something between a breath and a sob.
"They've been doing this for years," she said.
"Keeping us apart.
Feeding each story to the other side."
"Why?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Then: "I found something last month.
In Mom's desk.
I wasn't snooping — I was looking for a pen."
My pulse spiked.
"What did you find?"
"A letter.
Dated three years ago." Her voice dropped to almost nothing.
"Clara, it has your name on it.
And mine.
And it was never sent."
The room felt very small.
"What does it say?"
"I haven't opened it," she whispered.
"I was waiting until I could talk to you."
A door handle rattled on her end.
Then Mom's voice, sharp and close:
"Whitney?
Who are you talking to?"
---
What's in that letter — and why was it never sent?
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The full truth is darker than either sister expected.
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