The boy slowly lifted his head, tears already forming in his eyes.
“My mama was right,” he said softly.
Richard’s voice cracked. “What did you say?”
The boy reached under his shirt with shaking hands and pulled out a small, worn envelope. It looked old—folded and refolded too many times, like it had been carried for years.
“She said… if it ever happens,” the boy whispered, “I have to give you this.”
Richard stepped forward slowly, like the ground itself might collapse beneath him.
He took the envelope.
For a long moment, he just stared at it.
Then he opened it.
His face changed instantly—color draining, hands freezing.
“No…” he whispered. “No… that’s her writing…”
The world seemed to tilt.
Lily watched her father fall silent, the truth inside that letter heavier than anything anyone had said before.
