He smiled the same gentle smile he’d worn at the altar. “Hello, sweetheart.”

I stepped out before Rebecca could stop me. My fear hadn’t disappeared; it had simply become less important than the truth. “What did my mother write?”

Behind him, my father looked devastated. Daniel reached into his jacket and removed a folded sheet in a clear protective sleeve. The bottom half carried my mother’s signature — I knew it instantly, from birthday cards and school notes and the message she’d left with my earrings.

He held the page just beyond my reach.

“Your mother knew Bennett Marine would become vulnerable after her death,” he said. “She also knew your father would hide difficult truths from you in the name of protection.”

“Do not speak for Elaine,” my father said.