“I did.”
“I know. But there’s a difference between wanting him and wanting what happened.”
That distinction settled between us.
I had never said it aloud.
I loved Ethan more than anything in my life.
I would choose him again.
But I had also lost things.
Both statements were true.
And admitting one did not diminish the other.
Denise reached into her handbag.
“I brought something.”
I stiffened instinctively.
She noticed.
“It isn’t another letter from me.”
“Good.”
She almost smiled.
Then she pulled out a manila folder.
“Jonathan found these when he helped me clear out the storage unit last month.”
She pushed it across the table.
My name was written on the tab.
JOANNA — SCHOOL.
I recognized Denise’s handwriting.
“What is this?”
“Things from that year.”
I opened the folder.
There were photocopies of Ethan’s birth certificate.
An old hospital bracelet.
A receipt from the legal aid office.
