That was it. No asking to see them. No explanation. Just that.
I stepped outside and opened it.
The date hit me first. Fifteen years ago.
The letter explained everything he never said. After his wife died, everything collapsed. Debts, hidden problems, financial mess he couldn’t fix. He thought staying would drag the girls down with him.
So he left them with me.
Because I was stable.
Because I could give them a life he couldn’t.
I kept reading.
He knew how it looked. He knew what he had done. There was no version where he was right.
Attached were documents.
Recent ones.
Everything cleared.
Everything rebuilt.
All of it in the girls’ names.
“I fixed it,” he said.
I looked at him. “You don’t get to hand me this and think it fixes anything.”
“I don’t.”
No defense. No excuses.
That somehow made it worse.
