I lied to Caleb.
I made a fake letter.
I told myself I was fighting for my daughter.
I was really fighting against having to accept what my choices had cost.
I am sorry.
You do not owe me a relationship.
If you never want contact, I will respect that.
If someday you have questions, I will answer them without blaming Daniel, your mom, my family, alcohol, or anyone else.
I hope you are happy.
Luke.
Sophie finished.
Then read it again.
Daniel watched her face.
“What do you think?”
“He says Dad a lot.”
“He means me.”
“I know.”
“Does that bother you?”
“No.”
She looked up.
“Does it bother you?”
Daniel wanted to lie.
“A little.”
Sophie smiled.
“Why?”
“Because I’m human.”
“That’s annoying.”
“Very.”
She folded the letter.
“Can I write one?”
Daniel’s stomach twisted again.
“Yes.”
Sophie’s reply was twelve lines.
Luke,
I know who you are.
I don’t remember you.
I remember Dad.
I remember Mom.
I know you gave me red hair.
Thank you for saying Dad didn’t steal me.
I was scared when Caleb said that.
I’m not ready to meet you.
Maybe someday.
Please don’t come to my school.
Sophie.
Daniel read it.
Then turned away because he was crying.
Sophie noticed.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“You cry a lot.”
“Your mother died. I earned lifetime access.”
“That was years ago.”
“Grief does not respect calendars.”
Dr. Shah smiled.
“That was actually good.”
Daniel pointed.
“See?”
Sophie rolled her eyes.
The letter went through counsel.
Luke did not reply.
Exactly as Sophie requested.
Two more years passed.
Daniel turned forty-five.
Sophie turned twelve.
Her red hair grew darker but remained unmistakable.
She became tall.
Too tall, according to Daniel, who complained every new pair of shoes survived approximately six weeks.
She played soccer.
Loved astronomy.
Hated mushrooms.
Kept Hannah’s photographs beside her bed.
Had a complicated but growing relationship with Carol.
And still had Caleb’s old apology letter in a drawer.
Daniel discovered that accidentally when searching for batteries.
He did not mention it.
One December afternoon, the first snow arrived early.
Sophie came home on a yellow school bus.
Same route.
Different driver.
Daniel waited beneath the old maple tree.
The memory hit before he could stop it.
Seven-year-old Sophie.
Pink coat.
Caleb approaching.
Stay where you are.
Daniel looked toward the road.
No patrol car.