My father closed his eyes.
My mother whispered Lily’s name.
The letter continued.
“Please don’t let Noah grow up believing that his mother abandoned him.”
“He needs to know I fought for him.”
“And please don’t hate yourself for not knowing.”
“You didn’t fail me.”
“You were the reason I kept fighting.”
I couldn’t read the rest through my tears.
Mr.
Hayes quietly said,
“There is one more thing.”
He handed me a small key.
“What is this?”
“A storage unit.”
I looked at him.
“Lily rented it under another name.”
“What’s inside?”
“Everything.”
The next morning, we went there.
Inside the storage unit were boxes.
Dozens of them.
Bank records.
Property documents.
Photographs.
Copies of Jason’s emails.
And a small blue box.
Inside was a sonogram.
Noah.
Lily had written his name across the back.
Underneath it were four words.
“My little miracle.”
I held it against my heart.
