At the bottom of the page, he had written:
There are debts that cannot be measured in money. But that does not mean they should be ignored.
I covered my mouth.
The stern old man who had rarely praised me had been keeping track of everything.
Not to accuse anyone.
To make sure I would never be told that my sacrifices had meant nothing.
Then I opened the final envelope.
Inside was a letter addressed to Paweł.
My son,
You have always believed that keeping peace in a family means avoiding difficult conversations. I understand why. Your mother died when you were young, and I know how hard you worked to keep everyone from arguing.
But silence is not always peace. Sometimes it is simply a way of allowing an injustice to continue.
Your brothers will tell you that everything was divided equally. They will be correct about the inheritance described in my will.
