Chapter 2 - The Visits That Never Happened
Nicole reached for the letter.
"Dad. Let me read it."
Marcus didn't release the paper immediately.
His eyes remained fixed on the handwriting.
"Marcus," Tessa whispered.
He looked at his wife.
"How long have you had this?"
Tessa lowered her eyes.
"Almost three years."
Nicole felt the room tilt.
"Three years?"
Tessa nodded.
"You've had a letter from my mother for three years?"
"Nicole, please—"
"Why didn't you give it to me?"
Tessa's mouth trembled.
Marcus handed Nicole the pages.
"Read it," he said.
His voice sounded different.
Older.
Nicole sat on the edge of the bed.
The wedding dress rustled beneath her.
She unfolded the first page and began.
"My sweet Nicole,
I don't know what you've been told about why I left.
Some of it may be true. Some of it may be incomplete. And some of it may be the result of choices I wish I could undo.
When your father and I separated, I had lost my job, our marriage was falling apart, and I didn't have a stable home for you.
Your father could give you something I couldn't provide at that moment.
Stability.
So I agreed that you should stay with him while I rebuilt my life.
But I never agreed to stop being your mother."
Nicole pressed a hand against her mouth.
She remembered her ninth birthday.
Her mother had given her a small silver butterfly necklace.
Nicole still owned it.
She had stopped wearing it at thirteen because looking at it hurt too much.
She continued reading.
"I found work. I rented an apartment. I bought a secondhand bed and put a little yellow quilt on it because yellow had always been your favorite color.
I thought you'd come visit.
I thought we'd have Saturday mornings again.
But when I called, your father said you were struggling.
He said seeing me would confuse you.
I believed we needed time.
Then one day, he told me you'd asked not to see me anymore."
Nicole stopped.
She looked up.
"Dad?"
Marcus stood motionless.
"Did you tell her that?"
He rubbed his forehead.
"Nicole—"
"Did you?"
Marcus pulled out the chair beside the dresser.
He sat down heavily.
"Yes."
Nicole stared at him.
"But I never said that."
"I know."
The answer was barely audible.
Nicole's voice rose.
"Then why would you tell her I did?"
Marcus stared at the floor.
"Because every time a visit was planned, something happened. Your mother had to change shifts. Or you got upset. Or you asked whether she was coming back to live with us."
"So?"
"I didn't know how to help you."
Nicole's eyes filled.
"You could've let me see her."
Marcus covered his face.
"I know."
The room fell silent.
Elijah climbed onto the small bench near the window, sensing the adults needed space but unwilling to leave his sister.
Nicole returned to the letter.
"One afternoon, I came to the house. I had your birthday gift in my car.
Your father told me you were asleep.
He said it wasn't a good time.
I waited outside longer than I should have.
I thought maybe you'd wake up.
You never came."
Nicole remembered that birthday.
She had sat beside the living room window almost the entire afternoon.
She had asked Marcus whether her mother was coming.
He had told her they hadn't heard from Ava.
Nicole looked at him.
"That was my tenth birthday."
Marcus closed his eyes.
"Yes."
"I waited for her."
"I know."
"You told me she didn't call."
Tessa began crying quietly.
Nicole barely noticed.
She read the final paragraph on the first page.
"I tried again after that. Your father and I argued. We said things that damaged whatever trust was left between us.
Eventually, I stopped speaking to him directly because every conversation ended with another reason you weren't ready to see me.
But, Nicole, I need you to know something.
Your silence was never proof that you didn't love me.
I should have found another way to reach you. I should have asked for help sooner. I let fear and shame make too many decisions.
And for that, I am deeply sorry."
Nicole lowered the letter.
For years, she had imagined her mother choosing a different city.
A different house.
A different family.
She had imagined Ava waking each morning without thinking about her.
Now she was reading about an apartment with a yellow quilt.
A birthday gift that never reached her.
A mother sitting outside her house.
Nicole looked toward Marcus.
"You let me think she abandoned me."
He opened his mouth.
No words came.
Tessa finally spoke.
"Nicole, your father was trying to protect you."
Nicole turned.
"Protect me from what?"
Tessa hesitated.
"From getting hurt again."
Nicole held up the letter.
"I got hurt anyway."
Nobody answered.
She turned to the second page.
There was a paragraph addressed to Tessa.
Nicole read it aloud.
"Tessa, if this letter is still in your care when Nicole turns sixteen, please give it to her. Don't let fear decide for her anymore. She deserves the truth, even if the truth makes every adult in her life uncomfortable."
Nicole stared at the words.
Her sixteenth birthday had been five weeks earlier.
Tessa had baked her a chocolate cake.
She had hugged Nicole and told her how proud she was of the young woman she'd become.
All that time, the letter had been hidden in the blue tin box.
Nicole slowly turned toward her stepmother.
"Mom trusted you to give me this."
Tessa nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks.
"Yes."
"And you didn't."
"No."
Nicole looked back at the photograph.
The mysterious numbers.
Her mother's handwriting.
A memory she hadn't been allowed to have.
Then a terrible question formed.
"Is my mother still alive?"
Tessa looked up sharply.
"Nicole..."
Nicole stood.
"Is she?"
Marcus stared at his wife.
Tessa whispered, "Yes."
May you like
Nicole's heart began pounding.
"Then where is she?"
