“A long time ago.

I was supposed to tell you the truth years ago.

But I couldn’t.” And she drew out a sealed envelope and held it out to me, and across the front of it, in handwriting I would have known anywhere, in the handwriting of my dead daughter, was written my name.

Maya.

Chapter 7 — Chloe’s Handwriting

The cold cemetery wind moved through the dried leaves around the base of the headstone, and I stood there with the envelope in my hand and could not, for a long moment, make myself do anything at all.

My fingers found the ink of my own name on the front of it, and I touched the letters, and there was no mistaking them.