"You know about Ivy?"
Emily handed me a folded letter.
"Read it."
I read every word.
They wrote that I had found them when I had nothing left. That I had fed them first, worked sick, and learned hair, homework, fevers, and fear.
Then came the part that broke me.
"Read it."
They had seen me go quiet around their birthday. They had seen me avoid beaches. For years, they had wondered whether loving them hurt me.
Then they understood.
I hadn't loved them because I had forgotten Sarah and Ivy.
I had loved them while missing Sarah and Ivy.
That was why they had spent three years lying, working, and saving.
Then they understood.
The letter ended with one line.
"Andrea told us what you once said after we asked why she trusted you. You didn’t want us to save you. But Dad, you saved us first. We spent eighteen years returning the favor."
