« Grandma. »
« Not here, sweetheart. »
« You’ve had twenty years to decide where I was allowed to hear the truth. I’m done letting you decide. »
His words landed harder than a shout. I looked toward the stage, hoping for some interruption, some announcement that would bring this moment to an end. But the ceremony had stopped, and the person holding the microphone was my grandson. There was nowhere for me to hide.
My fingers struggled with the envelope’s flap.
The paper made a dry cracking sound as I opened it. Inside was a single folded sheet, yellowed around the edges. I recognized the paper before I even unfolded it. It came from the small writing pad Elena used to keep beside her bed, the one with the pale blue lines and the little flowers printed along the bottom.
I had bought that writing pad for her.
My hands began to shake more violently.
« Do you want me to read it? » Kevin asked.
I looked up. His face was pale, but his voice had become strangely steady.
