My sister.
Alive.
At least long enough to have a daughter.
Sadie.
I looked at the girl standing in front of me.
My niece.
Not a stranger.
Not Christopher’s secret child.
My niece.
“You’re Rebecca’s daughter?”
Sadie nodded.
I covered my mouth.
For days, I had wondered whether Christopher had betrayed me.
Now the truth felt worse because I couldn’t even understand what kind of betrayal it was.
“Why would my parents tell me my sister died?”
Sadie looked at the envelope.
“Christopher said your father was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“He didn’t know everything.”
“Stop saying that.”
She looked startled.
“Stop telling me what Christopher knew. He’s dead. He doesn’t get to hide behind you anymore.”
My voice cracked.
“He had fifteen years to tell me.”
Sadie lowered her eyes.
“He wanted to.”
“But he didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he thought telling you would get you killed.”
I stared at her.
Then I laughed again.
It sounded almost hysterical.
“Killed by whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s convenient.”
“I really don’t.”
“Then what do you know?”
Sadie drew in a shaking breath.
“My mother spent most of her life using different names. She moved constantly. She never explained why. When I was little, she told me we had family somewhere, but that I could never look for them.”
