My Elderly Neighbor Died — After His Funeral, I Received a Letter From Him Revealing He’d Buried a Secret in His Backyard 40 Years Ago 2

She said it so many times, I learned to stop asking. Now I could hardly breathe for all the questions pressing on my chest.

I’d begged for details.

When I called her again, she picked up right away. “Tanya?”

“Did you ever think about telling me? The truth?”

She was silent.

“I needed him, Mom. I needed to know.”

“I thought I was protecting you. I thought it was better to keep it simple. I didn’t want you to hate me.”

I looked at the photo on the table, the father I never had, holding me close.

“I don’t hate you, Mom, but I don’t know if I can ever trust you again. Not all the way.”

“I was protecting you.”

That Sunday, I went to the cemetery with a bundle of apple blossoms. I found Mr. Whitmore’s grave beneath the oaks, set the flowers down, and knelt beside the headstone.