Grace looked down at the envelope.
For a long time she said nothing.
Then she sat in the chair beside the desk.
“I hated you,” she said.
“I know.”
“No. You assumed I hated you.”
She looked up.
“I hated someone I had invented from newspaper photographs. A rich man in a mansion who ruined Dad’s life and forgot about him.”
Arthur absorbed the words.
“Was I wrong?”
“Not entirely.”
He nodded.
That was the beginning.
Not forgiveness.
But the beginning of honesty.
In October, the garden started changing color.
Annie loved raking leaves into piles and then complaining when Arthur wouldn’t let her jump into them because they were supposed to become compost.
Grace returned to work part-time.
Arthur hated that.
Grace ignored him.
Helen persuaded her to reduce her hours.
Grace listened to Helen.
Arthur complained that this proved Grace was capable of reason when properly advised.
