Her husband stared between us.
Mom closed her eyes.
“My daughter.”
No one spoke.
Her son looked at her in disbelief.
“You said you never had children before us.”
“I can explain.”
I raised the plastic bag.
Mom’s gaze locked onto it.
“What did he tell you?”
“The truth.”
“He never told the whole truth.”
“You sent cards.”
“I tried to reach you.”
“You wrote to Dad. You talked about me like I belonged to someone else.”
I removed the custody papers.
“You declined visits.”
“You don’t understand what my life was like.”
Then I took out the tuition checks.
“I understand this.”
Her expression changed.
Her husband moved closer.
“Tuition payments,” I said. “Dad paid them after she left.”
Mom shook her head.
“Simone, please.”
“He gave up engineering to raise me. Then he worked construction and paid for her education.”
Her husband picked up one of the checks.
