“It was simple when I was three,” I said. “You left.”
Silence spread across the yard.
Mom stepped toward me.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I agree. I should have been here years ago.”
Her husband stared between us.
Mom closed her eyes.
“My daughter.”
No one spoke.
Her son looked at her in disbelief.
“You said you never had children before us.”
“I can explain.”
I raised the plastic bag.
Mom’s gaze locked onto it.
“What did he tell you?”
