delicate, sentimental kind of crying people do at weddings. Her shoulders were trembling, and she had one hand pressed against her mouth.
My father sat beside her, staring at the suit as though he had seen a ghost.
That was when I realized the truth.
This wasn’t a surprise Claire had planned alone.
This was a secret my family had been carrying for years.
And somehow, she had found it.
“Please,” she whispered. “Read the letter.”
I looked down at the envelope.
My grandfather’s handwriting was unmistakable.
I opened it
