I adopted my three younger sisters after our mother abandoned us – 20 years later, I received a letter from her that I should never have seen.

I looked at all three of them.

“I wish she had told me.”

Sophie’s face crumbled.

“You deserved the option.”

“You too.”

They remained silent.

Continued.

“I could have gone to Chicago.”

Emma started crying again.

“I could have let someone else raise them.”

Grace looked away.

“But that’s not the same as wishing you had done it.”

The three of them looked at me.

I leaned forward.

“Don’t confuse wanting to have the option with wanting a different answer.”

Sophie broke down first.

He hugged me.

Grace followed her.

Emma held on for another three seconds before throwing herself into the pile.

I laughed at someone’s hair.

“You three are crushing me.”

“That’s great,” Emma murmured.

Apparently, revenge had finally arrived.

***

Back home, Mom’s letter remained on the kitchen counter.

I had read every word.

Even so, I didn’t have to give her the last word.

The girls disappeared in the guest room.

Then there were noises of things colliding.

“What are they doing?”.

“No questions asked!” Sophie shouted.

A minute later, they marched back carrying three ugly plastic laundry baskets.

The faded marker was still visible beneath the handles.

AND.

G.

S.

Emma smiled.

“Apparently, Dad is a hoarder.”

Grace dropped my old baseball cap into hers.

Sophie found a tiny sock and held it up triumphantly.

I started laughing.

Mom had believed that those three girls would cost me my future.

Twenty years later, they were sitting on my living room floor arguing about who used to get into which basket.

Grace patted the carpet beside her.

“Come sit down, Dad.”

I glanced once at Mom’s letter.