Rebecca.”

I barely acknowledged her.

Then she said, “My daughter received Ethan’s heart.”

I froze.

“She did?”

Rebecca nodded and handed me an envelope. “He asked me to give you this.”

I immediately recognized Ethan’s handwriting.

The first line said:

‘Mom, there’s something you need to know about her.’

I looked up.

“What does this mean?”

Rebecca’s expression shifted.

“Read it at home.”

“Do you know what’s inside?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell me.”

“I promised Ethan I wouldn’t.”

My gratitude instantly became suspicion.

The next sentence turned that suspicion into fury.

I couldn’t finish the letter at the cemetery.

I folded it, went home, and waited until I was alone before opening it again.

‘Her name is Lily. Mom, she is Dad’s biological daughter.’

I read the sentence three times.

Then continued.

‘I found out before Dad died. Please don’t blame Lily. She didn’t choose any of this. Dad had been

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