The foreclosure notice, dated nine years ago. The record of my payment — my name, my account, the full amount. The debts of Brad’s failed company and Stephanie’s mortgage that Frank had secretly covered. And Frank’s own signed, notarized statement, laying out the entire story, so that no one could ever claim I’d forged or exaggerated a word of it.
At the very bottom was a second envelope, sealed, labeled in Frank’s hand: “To be read to Brad and Stephanie, in your presence, only if you choose. It’s your truth to tell now, my love. Or to keep. I’ve left that choice to you, because I took every other choice away from you for eleven years, and I owe you this one.”
PART 4
I sat with that box for three days before I decided what to do.
