later, an envelope appeared on my porch.
Lucas’s name was written across the front.
I hated opening something addressed to him.
But Lucas was ten, and I was still responsible for protecting him.
One sentence stayed with me.
I was scared when I was eighteen, but being scared doesn’t explain ten years.
He asked for no forgiveness.
He blamed no one.
Before I gave the letter to Lucas, I called Trudy again.
“Can we meet?”
She sounded surprised.
“I thought you’d never want to see me again.”
“I didn’t say