The Photograph That Led Me to My Twins—and the Letters My Mother Hid for Three Years

Regret had not disappeared, and I knew it never entirely would.

But the next morning I would wake up and make another choice.

I would answer Savannah’s messages.

I would follow the counselor’s guidance.

I would support my children without demanding gratitude.

I would allow Lucas the honor of being the father who had always stayed.

And when I said I was coming next Saturday, I would go.

The photograph was still in my desk drawer.