What My Daughter Was Hiding
My hands shook as I pulled the plastic-wrapped bundle from under my daughter’s bed. It was heavy, awkward in my grip. My heart pounded.
I hesitated before peeling back the layers of plastic, my mind racing with possibilities—was it drugs? Money? Something even worse?
Finally, the last layer fell away, revealing…
A stack of old, yellowed letters.
I frowned, confusion replacing my panic. Carefully, I picked up the top letter and unfolded it. The handwriting was familiar, the ink slightly smudged.
And then I saw the signature at the bottom.
***James.***
My breath hitched.
James—her father. The man who had walked out on us twelve years ago without a word. The man I hadn’t heard from since.
My hands tightened around the paper as I read:
*”My dearest Lily, I hope one day you can forgive me. I never wanted to leave you. Please believe that.”*
I tore through the rest of the letters, my pulse roaring in my ears.
*”I wanted to reach out sooner, but I didn’t know how. Your mother would never forgive me, and maybe she shouldn’t. But you… you deserve to know the truth.”*
*”I’m closer than you think.”*
That last line sent a chill down my spine.
Closer?
I shoved the letters back into the plastic, my thoughts spiraling. How long had my daughter been receiving these? Had she met him? Was she *hiding* him from me?
And worst of all… if James was back, what did he *want*?
