My breath stopped.
Emma stepped closer but did not touch me.
I kept reading.
The letter spoke of a loan my father had taken years before, not for himself, but to save Margaret from a debt connected to her brother. It spoke of a deed placed temporarily in another name. It spoke of a promise that certain properties were to be protected for me and, one day, for the woman I chose to build a life with.
Then came a sentence that made my hands go cold.
Do not allow Ashford near the first restaurant. They already tried once, through family, and they will try again.
I looked up slowly.
“Ashford,” I said.
My mother closed her eyes.Track Pregnancy
Jennifer whispered, “Mom…”
Michael looked completely lost. “What is this?”
Samuel took the letter carefully when I handed it to him. His face changed as he read.
“This predates everything,” he said quietly.
Emma picked up another envelope. This one was addressed not to me, but to her.
Mrs. Emma Hayes.
The handwriting was my father’s too.
But my father had died before I met Emma.
My heart began to pound.
“That’s impossible,” I said.
Emma stared at the envelope in her hands.
The paper was yellowed at the edges, sealed with old glue that had never been opened.
My mother stepped forward, fear plain on her face now.
“Emma,” she said. “Give that to me.”
Emma did not move.
Samuel’s voice was low. “Mrs. Hayes, open it.”
With trembling fingers, Emma broke the seal.
Inside was a single folded page and a photograph.
The
photograph slipped out first.
It showed my father standing in front of our first restaurant building many years before I bought it. Beside him was a young woman with Emma’s eyes.Get Parenting Tips
