mother she had chosen not to be.
And forgiveness was not something anyone was entitled to because a painful explanation had finally surfaced.
Part 8 — The Morning After
The next morning, I woke to voices coming from my kitchen.
For a moment, I wondered whether I had dreamed everything.
Then I walked downstairs.
June, Ava, and Claire were sitting around the table.
The recovered letters were spread between coffee cups.
Vanessa sat at the far end.
Her hands were folded tightly in front of her.
No one looked comfortable.
Strangely, that made me trust the scene more.
No one was pretending everything was fixed.
There were no dramatic hugs.
No miraculous reunion.
Just four women sitting with twenty years of distance between them.
June picked up one of the unopened birthday cards.
It had a large number ONE written on the envelope.
She slid it across the table toward Vanessa.
