For Eugene. She held it in both hands before extending it toward me. “She was afraid of how much truth there was.”

I didn’t reach for it right away. In less than forty-eight hours I had already lost my home, my furniture, and any certainty I thought I had. Whatever waited inside that envelope felt capable of taking whatever remained.

Eventually, I took it.

Inside was a birth certificate, old but protected in a clear plastic sleeve.

Name: Carol Helen Miller. Mother: Helen Marie Miller. Father: Not Listed.

I read it three times before the words settled into meaning. Then I looked up. Carol’s eyes glistened, but her voice stayed calm.