CHAPTER 6: The Envelope Beneath the Stone

Margaret did not cry loudly.
She had learned after Daniel's funeral that loud grief made other people reach for you before you were ready to be held.
Instead, she pressed one hand to the gravestone and closed her eyes.
Grace shifted beside her.
"There's something else."
From inside the baby's blanket, she withdrew a sealed envelope, soft at the edges from being carried too long. Daniel's handwriting crossed the front.
Mom.
Margaret stared at it as if the single word could breathe.
"He told me to give this to you only if something happened," Grace said. "I waited because I was scared. Then Warren's men came to my apartment yesterday. I ran with Diana. This was the only place I thought Daniel would want me to go."
Margaret opened the envelope with numb fingers.
The letter inside was short.
Daniel apologized first. Of course he did.
Then he told her he loved Grace, that Diana was his daughter, and that Warren Vale had signed papers built on lies.
The handwriting bent slightly at the end, as if Daniel had written the words in a hurry or with a hand that knew time was no longer generous. Margaret ran her thumb over the ink and hated herself for every ordinary day she had believed there would be another Sunday call.
The final line was steady and unmistakable.
If I do not make it home, protect my girls.