The second I entered the kitchen, I froze.
Sitting on the table was the exact same vase I had left at the cemetery. The same white roses. The same lilies. The same lavender. Even the cream ribbon still looked damp from the rain.
I stared at it.
Then I looked back at Anna.
“How..?”
She burst into tears. “Dad, I wanted to tell you. I tried so many times.”
“Tell me what?”
“Dad, I couldn’t keep doing this anymore. I followed you to the cemetery this morning because I thought maybe I’d finally tell you there. But when I saw you standing by Mom’s grave, I lost my nerve. After you drove away, I took the flowers and brought them home. I was so angry at everything I almost tore them apart, but instead I just stood here crying.” Flowers
Then Anna reached into the pocket of her cardigan and pulled out a yellow envelope. My name was written across the front in handwriting I recognized more deeply than my own.
Evelyn’s.
