I have told myself that for thirty-six years.*
*I don’t believe it anymore.*
*If you are reading this, Anna, then I am probably gone.
And if my conscience means anything at all, I hope you will find a way to tell James the truth.
Not for my sake.
For his.
And for Claire’s.*
*I am sorry.
I know that isn’t enough.
But I am.*
*— Carol*
I folded the letter and set it on the table.
“She knew her name,” I said.
“I wrote to Carol once,” Anna said.
“Years ago.
I told her Claire was healthy.
I don’t know why I did it.
I think I needed her to know that the lie hadn’t destroyed everything.” She paused.
“She wrote back.
Just one line.
She said she was glad.”
I looked at the phone on the table.
