The other said: « GREG’S PROMISES. »
Greg’s face had gone pale.
Ms. Richards, Dad’s lawyer, pressed play again.
Dad looked straight into the camera.
« Greg, » he said. « I asked you three times to tell Chloe the truth. »
My brother closed his eyes.
Six days earlier, I still would’ve said Greg was the person I’d trusted most.
I asked you three times to tell Chloe the truth. »
My name is Chloe. I’m 34, and my father, Byron, died from a heart attack without warning.
Dad and I loved each other through Sunday coffee, half-finished crosswords, and easy silences. After my mother, Cecelia, died, he grew quieter.
Greg filled the spaces he left behind.
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