Grace insisted he loved me and believed I was the only person kind enough to give her a home.
That made me angrier.
He had controlled when I would learn the truth and left me to handle the consequences after his death. He knew I would not refuse a dying man.
Grief hardened me.
I packed Grace’s clothes and placed her backpack by the door.
“You can return to Marta,” I said. “You have money. You are not my responsibility.”
Her face went pale.
“I never asked him to do this.”
“Neither did I.”
I told her that every time I looked at her, I would remember the years David had kept me blind. She picked up her bag and walked toward the stairs.
Before she reached the bottom, she collapsed onto a step.
Part 3: The Choice
Grace folded into herself and sobbed.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I ruined him for you.”
Her words stopped me.
For the first time that night, I saw her not as David’s secret, but as a frightened sixteen-year-old girl. She had lost her mother, never been allowed to claim her father, and now lost the brother who had protected her from a distance.
“He did this,” I said. “Not you.”
Grace admitted David feared I would hate her. He had promised to carry the blame so she would no longer have to live in hiding.
Something inside me softened.
