“Evelyn.”

“I thought it would make things worse,” she said.

“You were under tremendous stress.

Your divorce was nearly complete.

Grace had already said you didn’t believe her.

I assumed it was another effort to pull you back.”

I couldn’t speak at first.

The babies’ hospital photographs, the scan showing four tiny hearts, the letter begging for one conversation—I had put them into that envelope while my hands shook.