Later that day, I went to the back of the closet, looking for a blanket. I stumbled on that shoebox. It had clearly been hidden. Dusty. Mismatched. Old.
I hesitated before opening it.
Inside were pictures of me as a teenager—at 15, 17, at my high school graduation. I blinked, confused. Grayson and I didn’t even know each other back then.
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There were receipts from restaurants in my hometown—places Dad used to take me. And right on top, a letter. The handwriting was shaky but familiar. Dad’s.
“Mara, if you’re reading this, it means I didn’t get the chance to tell you in person. But I need you to know something I kept from you for a long time. Grayson used to work for me. Years ago. He helped me fix up the cabin. He said he was struggling, so I gave him a few jobs. That’s how he met you at the diner. But Mara… it wasn’t a coincidence. He asked about you. Watched you. And when I got worried, I told him to back off. But he didn’t. He wanted a ‘stable woman.’ That’s what he said. I didn’t say anything because you looked happy. But I’m leaving you this money so you have something that’s just yours. In case you ever realize he chose you for the wrong reasons. I hope I’m wrong. But just in case—I love you. Dad.”
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