MY MOTHER SHOVED ME OUT OF MY FATHER’S MEMORIAL—THEN A VETERAN READ HIS LAST ORDER ALOUD
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Chapter 12 / 20
Chapter 12 - THE SECOND LETTER
Two months later, Walter called me.
“There’s something else.”
I almost laughed.
“Please tell me Dad didn’t leave another courtroom in an envelope.”
Walter actually chuckled.
“No.”
He met me at a diner.
This time he carried no sealed paper.
Only an index card.
“Your father wrote this the night he gave me the letter.”
I turned it over.
Dad’s handwriting.
Three lines.
Rebecca will think she failed me.
Tell her duty is not abandonment.
And tell her I bragged about her constantly.
I laughed through tears.
Walter smiled.
“He really did.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
He leaned back.
“It was unbearable.”
That was the first time my grief felt warm.
Not empty.
May you like
Not guilty.
Warm.
