Jack was, after all, the child I had raised with my own hands.
More than thirty years of affection wasn’t something I could just cut off overnight. I still held onto a shred of hope.
If he saw me as his mother–if he’d replaced the poisoned medication–maybe I could show him mercy.
Seeing that she couldn’t change my mind, Stella suggested coming home with me.
The three of us–Stella, Zayne, and me–pulled up to the house. But just as we were about to unlock the front door, we froze.
Voices.
Coming from inside.
Zayne immediately held out a hand to stop me. His other hand slipped into his jacket, pulling out a recording device.
The voices weren’t loud. We had to press against the door to make out the conversation.
Sebastian.
He’d already been discharged from the hospital and was back home.
Inside, he and Jack were talking.
“Jack, it looks like she found out. The drawer in my nightstand isn’t the original one -she swapped it.”
Jack sounded anxious. “What did you keep in that drawer?”
“Letters to your mom. You know how I am. I’ve always liked writing things down.”
Jack’s tone turned sharp. “My mom’s been dead for years! Why are you still messing around with writing letters? You put everything in writing, and now look–it’s blown up in your face!”
“Watch your mouth,” Sebastian snapped, followed by a soft cough. “Your mom and I met through letters. I thought I’d write them down, and when I’m gone, you could burn them for us. Something to hold onto.”
1/2
Chapter 9
+25 BONUS
There was a pause, then his voice softened. “I’ve been living with nothing but my memories of your mother–and my hopes for you.”
His tone shifted to blame.
