PART 6 — THE HOUSE WITH THE BLUE DOOR
The next morning, I drove to the address on the photograph.
My hands were sweating against the steering wheel.
I kept thinking about what I was about to do.
I was going to meet a forty-year-old man who was my son.
A son I had never held.
Never watched grow.
Never taught to ride a bicycle.
Never attended a graduation for.
Never heard call me Dad.
When I reached the house, I almost turned around.
It had a blue front door.
A small American flag hung beside it.
I sat in the car for nearly twenty minutes.
Then I knocked.
A man opened the door.
He looked at me.
I looked at him.
Neither of us spoke.
Then he said:
“You’re him.”
I swallowed.
“Are you Daniel?”
He nodded.
“My name is—”
“I know.”
He stepped aside.
“Come in.”
I entered.
There were photographs everywhere.
Daniel with a woman.
Daniel as a child.
Daniel in military uniform.
Daniel holding a little girl.
His family.
His life.
A life I had never known.
He noticed me staring.
“My daughter.”
“She looks happy.”
“She is.”
He smiled.
Then the smile disappeared.
“My mother told me never to look for you.”
“Carol?”
“Yes.”
I froze.
“You knew her?”
“She visited me.”
“How many times?”
“Twice.”
“When?”
“The first time was when I was twenty-two.”
“And the second?”
“Six years ago.”
I stared at him.
“What did she say?”
Daniel walked to a desk.
He picked up a letter.
“She gave me this.”
He handed it to me.
I opened it.
It was Carol’s handwriting.
My heart broke before I even finished reading.
Daniel,
I don’t know if your father will ever know you exist.
If he doesn’t, please understand that I made the decision because I was afraid.
I was afraid of losing him.
But I also know that fear doesn’t make a wrong thing right.
One day, he may come looking for answers.
If that happens, tell him I was sorry.
Not because I didn’t love him.
Because I loved him badly.
I couldn’t continue.
I lowered the letter.
Daniel sat across from me.
“She told me something else.”
“What?”
“She said she didn’t want you to die believing your first love had abandoned you.”
I looked up.
“She wanted me to know Anna never rejected me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she said that lie was the foundation of everything.”
I closed my eyes.
Carol had spent decades living with a lie she had created.
Then Daniel said something that made my blood run cold.
“There is something else in that letter.”
“What?”
He pointed toward the last page.
I turned it over.
There was a sentence written on the back.
If he ever finds you, give him the blue envelope.
I looked at Daniel.
“Do you have it?”
He nodded.
“But I didn’t understand what it meant.”
He walked upstairs.
A few minutes later, he returned carrying a small blue envelope.
My name was written on it.
This time, I recognized the handwriting immediately.
Carol.
I opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
I stared at it.
It showed me at twenty-one.
Standing beside Anna.
We were smiling.
Behind us was a hospital.
And in the corner of the photograph stood Carol.
Watching us.
I turned the photograph over.
There was one sentence.
“This is the day everything changed.”
