She gripped the letter, her voice barely audible. “Where did you… how long have you known?”
“Only since yesterday. Why, Mom? Why didn’t you ever tell me?” My voice trembled despite my effort to steady it. “You let him live right next door all this time.”
She sank into a chair, tears glistening.
“I was nineteen. My parents said he’d ruin my life. They made me choose: keep you, or keep him. They threatened to throw me out, to shame us all. I… I did what they demanded.”
“So you erased him? For them?” My pulse pounded as I continued. “He missed everything. My birthdays, graduations… Did you ever think about what that did to me? Or to him?”
Her shoulders shook.
“I thought I was protecting you. I thought if I kept him away, you’d have a better life. A normal life, with my parents’ support.”
I shook my head, anger and grief tangling inside me.
“You did it to protect yourself, Mom. You buried the truth and let me live right beside it without knowing.”
She wiped at her smudged mascara.
“I’m sorry, honey. I truly am. I thought I could make it disappear.”
“You can’t bury someone forever, Mom. Not really. It always comes back up—you’re the one who taught me that. My father left a letter for you, too.”
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