No cash.
No treasure.
At first, I was disappointed.
Then I opened the letters.
They were from Rebecca.
To me.
Twenty-seven years of letters.
Every birthday.
Every Christmas.
Every major moment.
Carol,
I saw Daniel’s graduation picture. Dad mailed it secretly. He looks like you when he smiles.
Carol,
I heard about your surgery. I almost came home.
Carol,
I stood across the street from Mom’s funeral. I’m sorry. I was afraid.
Carol,
I know you think I abandoned you. I hope someday you learn that leaving was the hardest thing I ever did.
I couldn’t read anymore.
I collapsed onto the grass.
Rebecca sat beside me.
“You wrote to me?”
“Every year.”
“Dad never gave them to me.”
“He was afraid.”
I cried until my chest hurt.
Then I opened the velvet box.
Inside was my mother’s ring.
Not her wedding ring.
A small sapphire she had inherited from her mother.
