Chapter 2: The Name Written In Pencil
Part 2 ⬇️
It was a shoebox.
Old, taped shut, with my name written on the lid in Mom's handwriting.
My hands were shaking before I even touched it.
Inside were three things: a folded letter, a photograph, and a document with an official seal at the top.
I picked up the photograph first.
It showed Mom — young, maybe twenty — standing beside a man I had never seen before.
She was holding a baby.
She was smiling.
"Tessa," I said slowly.
"Who is this man?"
She wouldn't look at me.
"That's why she never told you.
She was afraid of what you'd do."
"What I'd do?" My voice broke.
"Tessa, who is he?"
She finally met my eyes.
"He didn't disappear, sweetheart.
He was told to stay away.
Mom made sure of that.
But he never stopped asking about you."
I looked down at the document.
My name was on it.
So was his.
And then I saw the second name on the photograph — written in pencil on the back, in handwriting I didn't recognize.
It wasn't Mom's.
My chest went tight.
"Tessa.
Did he know where I was this whole time?"
She pressed her lips together.
"He came to the apartment once.
You were seven.
Mom sent him away before you could see him.
She made me promise never to tell you."
The room went completely silent.
Then my phone rang.
I didn't recognize the number.
---
What happened when she answered that call changed everything she thought she knew about her own life.
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