Why had she never called the house?

How much money had he sent?

What had he told her about me?

What would the guardianship plan mean if something happened to her?

Then the oldest question returned.

Why did someone who knew what lying had done to my childhood decide that lying would protect me?

I got up once and stood in the hallway with the letter in my hand.

In the dim light, the handwriting seemed almost ordinary enough to reassure me.