He handed me another envelope.
Inside was a photograph of Elizabeth and a few handwritten lines.
“Dear Margaret,
You never knew I existed. For years, I was angry with Robert, but I was never angry with you. You didn’t take anything away from me. He was the one who made decisions for all of us.
If this letter ever reaches you, please don’t blame yourself.”
I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore.
Robert stepped toward me and tried to take my hand.
But I pulled away.
“You took away my right to choose,” I said. “For forty-five years, I believed there were no secrets between us.”
He silently nodded.
That evening, I returned home in Daniel’s car.
Robert stayed behind in the forest with his son.
A week has passed.
My husband calls every day, writes letters, and begs me to forgive him.
Our children now know the entire story.
