NORA

I looked down at the paper, my eyes scanning the opening lines.

She started with an apology. She wrote about every hospital stay, every missed event, and every piece of my youth her illness had stolen. Reading her words made my chest ache, but it was the next paragraph that made my breath catch.

She wrote about my father. She admitted she had been terrified of what the Blackwood name would bring into my life, and that hiding the truth was the only way she thought she could protect me.

Toward the bottom, her handwriting grew messier, like her hand had been tiring out. She didn't want a traditional...