“I don’t know.”
Then I pressed call.
PART 4 (THE END)
The phone rang four times before someone answered.
“Hello?”
His voice was deeper than expected, calm and careful.
I opened my mouth but couldn’t speak.
“Hello?” he said again.
“Daniel?”
A pause followed.
“Yes.”
“My name is Lena.”
The silence changed, as if he had drawn and held a breath.
“Lena,” he repeated.
I heard movement in the background, maybe a chair or footsteps.
“Are you alone?” I asked.
“My wife is here, but I can step outside.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to hear you clearly.”
Through the window, bare branches reached across the gray sky above Grandpa’s house.
“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted.
“You called. That seems like a good beginning.”
His voice carried no accusation or urgency, only patience.
“I found the letters,” I said. “The ones you sent Grandpa.”
“I wondered if you would.”
“You knew he had them?”
“He told me he received them.”
“But he never answered.”
“No.”
“Why did you keep writing?”
Daniel was quiet briefly.
“Because writing was easier than calling. I didn’t know if the number was still good. I didn’t know whether you wanted to be found. A letter could be ignored without embarrassing anyone.”
I understood immediately.
“I know something about wanting to leave people room to ignore you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“Neither did you.”
The words settled between us.
Claire watched behind me, arms folded. Mom and Dad stayed silent at the table while Elena waited in the hall, giving us privacy.
“Claire is here,” I said.
“Is she?”
“Yes.”
“Does she want to speak with me?”
I looked at my sister.
“Hi,” she said.
Daniel’s voice was faint but warm. Claire sat and answered in short phrases.
“Yes.”
“No, I didn’t know about the letters.”
“I’m sorry you had to wonder.”
“You have a daughter?”
She glanced at me and smiled for once that day.
“How old is she?”
They talked for minutes as Claire learned ordinary details: his town, job, wife, and a college hockey injury.
Ordinary details.
The kind of details families collect without noticing their value.
Claire handed the phone back, eyes wet.
“He wants to meet us,” she said.
I lifted the phone. “We would like that.”
“I would too,” Daniel said.
“Not here,” I added.
“I understand.”
