“Mrs.

Hale,” she said, and there was real fear in it now, a different fear than the nervousness of a servant in her employer’s office.

“Please.

You don’t have to — please don’t.”

“No,” my mother said gently, not looking away from me.

“He should have been told this years ago.

It was wrong to keep it from him, and I have carried that wrong long enough.

I am not going to take it with me.”