Chapter 2: The Envelope With My Own Handwriting
Part 2 ⬇️
He looked smaller than I remembered.
Thinner.
The man who once filled every room with his voice was lying in a hospital bed, barely able to sit up.
I stood in the doorway for a moment, not sure I could move.
Then he saw me.
He didn't smile.
He didn't cry.
He just said, "You came."
"Of course I came," I said.
"You're still my father."
He was quiet for a long time after that.
Then he reached toward the nightstand and picked up an envelope.
His hand was shaking.
"I need you to find Luis," he said.
"Before I go."
I felt the air leave the room.
"Dad—"
"I know what I'm asking." His voice cracked.
"Just hear me out."
He told me he'd stayed in contact with Luis all these years.
That Luis had called him just six weeks ago, out of nowhere, crying.
That Luis had said something that had been eating at my father ever since.
"What did he say?" I asked.
Dad closed his eyes.
"He said the cheating wasn't what it looked like.
That someone set it up.
That he'd been trying to tell you the truth for years but you'd blocked him everywhere."
I laughed.
I actually laughed.
"Dad, that's what cheaters say—"
"There's a letter," he said quietly.
"In that envelope.
He sent it to me two years ago.
I never opened it."
He held it out to me.
I didn't take it right away.
Because the handwriting on the front wasn't Luis's.
It was mine.
---
What is in that envelope — and why does it have her own handwriting on it?
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The full truth is more shocking than anyone expected.
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