But it quietly kept a great many other families from living it.
Chapter 18 — The Letters I Wrote
Months later, Ezra went back to the quiet house in Pinecrest alone.
He opened the hallway cabinet and lifted out the old wooden box.
The forged letters were gone — they lived in a court file now, evidence of a decade of harm.
So he had brought new ones, written by his own hand, to take their place.