The Letter That Disappeared
Chapter 04 - The Letter That Disappeared
By sunrise, I knew more about my husband's past than I had learned in fifteen years of marriage.
And somehow, there were still holes everywhere.
Grant told me the lawyer who called had never contacted him again.
He claimed he assumed Hannah had changed her mind.
"Did you try to find her?"
"No."
"Why?"
Grant's answer was quiet.
"Because you were getting better."
I stared at him.
He meant after we lost our daughter.
I had spent months unable to enter the nursery.
For almost a year, I couldn't walk through the baby aisle in a grocery store without feeling like the floor was tilting beneath me.
Grant had been grieving too.
I knew that.
But grief did not erase lies.
"Go to bed," I said.
"Claire."
"I need you out of this kitchen."
Grant left.
I didn't sleep.
At nine, I drove to St. Vincent's.
I told myself I was going because of Eli.
That was only partly true.
Hannah looked smaller than I'd imagined.
Pale.
Exhausted.
Human.
I had spent the night inventing a woman I could hate.
The woman in the hospital bed did not look like her.
When she opened her eyes and saw me, she whispered my name.
"Claire."
That surprised me.
"You know who I am?"
"I've always known."
I sat beside the bed.
"Is Grant Eli's father?"
Tears filled her eyes.
"Yes."
The word landed softly.
It still hurt.
"Did Grant know?"
Hannah turned toward the window.
"I thought he did."
"Why?"
"Because I wrote to him."
"The letter."
She nodded.
"I told him everything."
She described sending it to Grant's office because she didn't know his home address.
Two weeks later, Hannah received a reply.
Not from Grant.
From his mother.
Margaret Bennett.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"What did Margaret say?"
Hannah looked at me.
"She said Grant had shown her my letter."
I stopped breathing.
"She said he wanted me gone."
"Grant says he never saw it."
Hannah closed her eyes.
"Then one of them is lying."
My phone rang.
It was Grant.
I ignored it.
Hannah reached toward the bedside drawer.
"There is something you should see."
She pulled out an old envelope.
Inside was a letter on Bennett Development stationery.
At the bottom was Grant's signature.
I read the first sentence.
Hannah, whatever happened between us was a mistake. Do not contact my family again.
My chest tightened.
Then I reached the final paragraph.
The child is your responsibility. I want no part of his life.
I looked up.
Hannah was crying.
"That letter is why I never came back."
I stared at the signature.
I had seen Grant sign his name ten thousand times.
It looked real.
But one tiny detail was wrong.
May you like
Grant never crossed the second "t" in Bennett.
The person who signed this letter had.
