Chapter 13 - An Unsolicited MessageIn early spring, a simple cream envelope arrived at my office address in Evanston. It didn't come from a law firm, and it bore no return address—just my name written in my mother's neat, sloping handwriting.
I sat at my desk for a long time, looking at the envelope before opening it. Inside was a single card, unadorned and brief:
Darien,
I am not writing this to ask for money, nor to ask you to visit. I know we cannot undo the ten years we wasted, or the choices we made that pushed you away.
Amber made her first restitution payment on her own this month. Your father is working again. We are living quietly.
I watched your interview on the business channel last week. You spoke about integrity in business. You learned that on your own, but I am proud of the man you became, even if I was not the mother you deserved while you were becoming him.
You don't need to reply.
May you like
Mom
I folded the letter carefully, placed it inside my desk drawer, and locked it. I didn't feel rage, nor did I feel a sudden urge to reconcile. But the cold edge of bitterness that had lingered in my chest for ten years softened just a fraction.
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