At the age of 13, she gave birth to a child, and 18 years later, on her daughter’s birthday, she received a letter from the hospital after which the girl’s father admitted for the first time that he had been hiding the truth.

Emma squeezed her hand.

“What is it, honey?”

“You have the right to live too. You don’t have to spend the rest of your life paying for what happened when you were thirteen.”

There was silence in the room.

Marta wiped her eyes.

Emma looked at the shelf where she kept a photo of her father.

For years, she believed that being strong meant enduring everything in silence. She believed that moving forward required leaving all the painful questions unanswered.

Now she understood something else.

She was able to love her father and at the same time realize that his silence cost her dearly.

She was able to acknowledge Helena’s regret without pretending that regret erased responsibility.

Marta, Emma’s closest friend, arrived with a bouquet of flowers. Several of Sophie’s friends brought gifts, and an elderly neighbor who had known them for years insisted on taking photos of everyone seated at the table.