Michael wrote:
Do not sell your half because of anger.
Do not keep it because of me.
If you and Emily ever decide what happens to that place, let it be the first decision in this family made by people who were told the truth.
I stopped reading.
Nobody spoke.
That was the line.
The one that cracked through my anger without reducing it.
People who were told the truth.
Susan had not been given truth as a child either.
Neither had Emily.
I had been denied it as an adult.
Michael had finally understood the real damage.
Secrecy did not merely hide facts.
It stole choices.
I folded the letter.
Susan whispered, “I’m sorry.”
I looked at her.
Thirty-seven years.
There is no simple way to end a friendship that old.
You do not remove one person.
You disturb half your memories.
Birthday parties.
Graduations.
Funerals.
Children’s voices.
