I see now that you deserved the truth, even when it was complicated.

At the bottom was a name I recognized only from business headlines: Malcolm Sterling.

I cried over that letter until Oliver began to stir.

Then I fed him, changed his diaper, and sat beside the window while the city brightened.

No amount of wealth could return my mother to me.

No document could give us another conversation.

I called Warren that afternoon and asked him to come alone.

He read the letter silently.