That letter says, in various lengths, that she was grieving my father, that she was frightened of losing me too, that she did what she thought was best, and that she has been punished enough.

The fifth one, which came in the August of the first year, is the one I keep separately.

It is two pages and it does not contain a defense.

It says she opened the letter.

It says she wrote on the back of it.

It says she stood at a door and told a pregnant woman that her son did not want to see her, and it says — this is the line — I decided in about four seconds and I have known for seven years that I decided wrong and I have not been able to say it out loud to a single person, including your father’s photograph.

I have read that letter perhaps forty times.