I returned home from a commercial repair job and found an elegant wedding invitation in my mailbox.
The names printed across the front were:
Megan Whitfield and Kyle Brandt.
The ceremony was scheduled for October.
I nearly threw it away.
Why would someone I’d never met invite me to her wedding?
Then I noticed a smaller envelope tucked inside.
Across the front, someone had written:
Please read this first.
Inside were two letters.
One was from Megan.
The other was much older.
The paper had yellowed, and the handwriting was immediately familiar.
It belonged to my mother.
My hands began trembling.
The letter had been written a few months before she died.
It was addressed to Diane.
Mom explained that she wanted her sister to raise me if anything happened to her.
She worried my father wouldn’t understand the kind of child I was.
Then she mentioned something I’d never known existed.
