Mom nodded.
The strangest part came six months later.
A letter arrived from Vanessa.
It was addressed to Mom, not me.
Mom asked if I wanted to read it.
I said only if she wanted me to.
She read it first.
Then handed it to me.
Vanessa apologized for “how things got out of control.” She wrote that she had felt invisible beside me for years. Every time Mom praised my career, every time someone mentioned the house I bought, Vanessa felt like the family failure.
Then came the sentence proving she still did not understand.
I only did what I had to do to make something of my own.
I folded the letter.
Mom looked at me.
“Well?”
“She’s sorry she got trapped by the consequences. I don’t know if she’s sorry for what she did.”
Mom took the letter back.
“I thought so too.”
She placed it in a drawer.
