Evan smiled and offered his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you both.”
Something had happened. A long time ago.
I shook it because not doing that would have been its own confession. His mother had mailed us Christmas cards every year until he was twelve. Inside each one was a school picture and a short note because Aaron had once promised Mark, his closest friend, that he would look after things for Evan if anything ever happened. Something had happened. A long time ago.
The foundation beneath our feet had been repaired with money Mark had left for his son.
Emily smiled at Evan, then back at us.
But the person we had wronged was standing in our yard holding our daughter’s hand.
“We met through work. I told you he moved here last winter.”
I knew what he wanted. Get through the evening. Keep Emily calm. Find a way to separate them before Evan learned who we were and what we had done.
But the person we had wronged was standing in our yard holding our daughter’s hand.
