Rebecca.”
I barely acknowledged her.
Then she said, “My daughter received Ethan’s heart.”
I froze.
“She did?”
Rebecca nodded and handed me an envelope. “He asked me to give you this.”
I immediately recognized Ethan’s handwriting.
The first line said:
‘Mom, there’s something you need to know about her.’
I looked up.
“What does this mean?”
Rebecca’s expression shifted.
“Read it at home.”
“Do you know what’s inside?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me.”
“I promised Ethan I wouldn’t.”
My gratitude instantly became suspicion.
The next sentence turned that suspicion into fury.
I couldn’t finish the letter at the cemetery.
I folded it, went home, and waited until I was alone before opening it again.
‘Her name is Lily. Mom, she is Dad’s biological daughter.’
I read the sentence three times.
Then continued.
‘I found out before Dad died. Please don’t blame Lily. She didn’t choose any of this. Dad had been
