familiar. I’d looked into them across our breakfast table, in the rearview mirror, in the face of the little girl who asked me to leave the hallway light on.
For a moment, I wanted Carol so badly I almost called her name.
Then I remembered why I was sitting there.
The last envelope was in her handwriting.
“Ruth, I can’t pretend this is right. Walter still thinks Anna chose to leave him. I heard what you said to her, and I should have told him. I was afraid that if he knew, he would go after her.”
I stopped, then forced myself to continue.
“Now you want us to raise their baby without telling him who she is. You say Anna has agreed to the adoption, but she doesn’t know the child will be with us. Neither of them knows enough to make this choice. If Walter ever finds out,
