He said my name like he still had the right to use it. “Cade, I’m their father. I want to explain. Your mom made me promise…” He held out an envelope. Thick. Sealed with old yellowed tape.
I took it with shaking hands but didn’t open it yet. I didn’t want him inside, but I didn’t want the neighbors watching either, so I stepped aside. I didn’t offer him a seat. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room, his eyes flicking to the photos of the boys lining the walls.
“They look… good,” he muttered.
“What’s in the envelope?” His jaw tightened. “You should just read it.”
I carefully peeled back the tape. Inside were official-looking documents and a letter. I recognized Mom’s handwriting instantly.
James, I am going to get straight to the point: I am sick, and I don’t think I am going to make it. You walked away from us, but the triplets will have to go to you after I am gone. You will have to take care of them. Cade is too young, and there’s nobody else.
I’ve put the money I inherited from my grandmother into a trust for the triplets. The papers are all here. It can only be accessed by their legal guardian, and only for their care and future. This should make it easier for you. Promise me you will do right by them. They are your children, and they will have nowhere else to go. Please, take care of our children.
I folded the letter slowly. “She knew the only way you would even consider taking them in was if there was money involved. And even then, you didn’t want them.”
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