But I was going to get one.

PART 3

We went inside the house where Margaret and I had grown up.

She backed into our father’s old chair, trembling.

“Why?” I asked. “Why would you steal fifty-five years from us?”

“I was protecting you,” she said. “He came back from war. I didn’t know what condition he was in.”

I stared at her.

“That’s the excuse. What’s the real reason?”

Her eyes dropped.

Then the truth came out.

After our father died, Margaret had read the inheritance documents.

Part of the estate was divided according to which daughter had children.

Margaret had a family.

I did not.

If I remained unmarried and childless, her side benefited.

My chest went cold.

“So the longer Daniel stayed out of my life, the more you stood to inherit.”

Margaret began crying.

“You would have been fine, Ellen. You had your own house. Your work.”