And now, standing before her was a little girl with Mike’s eyes, Mike’s smile, and even the same laugh.
I approached her.
“Margaret, I can’t bring your son back.”
She nodded.
“I know, sweetheart.”
“But I can do what Mike asked me to do in his letter.”
I took her hand.
“You can come to our house for dinner on Sunday. And afterward, we’ll figure out how to help you find a place closer to us.”
Margaret burst into tears.
Emily ran toward us and wrapped her arms around both of us.
Robert stood by the door, smiling quietly.
That evening, after we returned home, I asked him to sit beside me.
“Robert, you did something wonderful. But never again keep secrets from me about my child.”
He took my hand.
“I promise. I was wrong not to tell you immediately. I just wanted to verify everything and make sure nobody would get hurt.”
