He Died Calling Me His Sister—Then I Opened the Letter That Changed Everything (4 of 5)

“He loved you more than you’ll ever know,” she whispered.

Later, I drove to my parents’ house. It looked the same—but felt different now. Like it was built on a lie.

My mom opened the door. Her smile vanished when she saw my face.

“We need to talk,” I said.

In the kitchen, I asked the question that had hollowed me out: “Why didn’t you tell me?”

They both looked stricken. My mom whispered, “We were trying to protect you.”

I shook my head. “You weren’t protecting me. You were protecting yourselves.”

I left without saying goodbye.

That night, I placed Eric’s letter—my dad’s letter—in a small frame and set it on my shelf. Dead center. A truth I could finally hold.

I don’t know how to forgive them yet.

But I do know one thing.