I thought about the letter she had written, the one she had held onto for thirty-six years and never sent, and the one she had finally sent when she had nothing left to lose.
I thought about the morning she had answered the door and made the choice that changed everything.
I didn’t know if I forgave her yet.
I thought I might, eventually.
I thought that was probably what she had been hoping for when she whispered Anna’s name in that hospital room — not just for me to find the truth, but for me to find a way through it.
