“Eight years ago, when I sent the certified hospital notices from the maternity ward, your father sent a letter back through a law office,” I said.

“It said my claim was fraudulent and that he would treat any more letters as harassment.”

The room went silent except for the low hum of the refrigerator.

“He told himself you were making it up,” Henry said.

“He picked a lie that let him walk away without looking back,” I said.

“He thinks he’s inviting a ghost to dinner.”

“Then we should go to Aspen,” Henry said.