Chapter 2: What Was Inside the Box
Caroline's hands were shaking.
She reached into the box and pulled out a stack of envelopes — dozens of them, bound together with a rubber band.
Her name was on every single one.
"Those are your letters," Rachel said quietly.
"Every birthday.
Every Christmas.
Every graduation.
Every time one of us needed our mother."
Caroline's mouth opened, then closed.
"You never opened them," Rachel continued.
"Not one."
Graham shifted uncomfortably beside her.
"Rachel, this isn't the time—"
"You don't get to speak today," Rachel said, without even looking at him.
She turned back to Caroline.
"We didn't stop trying to reach you.
You stopped wanting to be reached.
And for fifteen years, Dad told us to be kind anyway.
To leave the door open.
To hope."
Caroline's eyes filled with tears.
"I didn't know—"
"You knew."
The room was completely still.
Then Beth stepped forward from the crowd, holding something none of us had seen before.
A single photograph.
She placed it gently on top of the envelopes.
Caroline looked down at it — and went completely white.
"Where did you get that?" she whispered.
May you like
Rachel's voice didn't waver.
"The same place we found everything else."
