I stared at the letter, my hands trembling.
“These are from Alyssa?” I whispered, though I already knew the answer.
Hera nodded. “There are more. Some from when he was five. Some from last month.”
“She’s been writing to him all these years?”
“And he’s been writing back,” Hera said quietly. “He’s been hiding these letters for years, Edward. He didn’t want us to know.”
My mind raced. Alyssa hadn’t disappeared completely. She had been watching from afar. She had been reaching out to Bill in secret.
And Bill had kept it from us.
“Why didn’t he tell us?” I asked, my voice cracking.
Hera sat down beside me, her expression heavy with sorrow.
“Maybe he was afraid we’d take him away,” she said softly. “Or maybe he didn’t want to hurt us.”
I sat in silence, staring at the box of letters.
For twelve years, I believed I had raised Bill as my own son. I believed Alyssa had abandoned him completely.
But now I realized that somewhere in the shadows, she had never truly let go.
And Bill had been carrying this secret alone.
We decided to wait until Bill came home to talk to him.
When he walked through the door that evening, still buzzing from his science competition where he had won second place, his smile faded the moment he saw the wooden box sitting on the coffee table.
His face went pale.
