Chapter 6 - The Unopened Envelope
|
I looked down at the thick folder. Across the front flap, written in my sister’s sharp, precise handwriting, were two words: FOR CAROLINE.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Proof,” Rebecca replied. “I spent seven years collecting every piece of paper Luke thought he destroyed.”
She unbuckled the latch and pulled out a stack of returned envelopes. Each one was stamped with bright red postal ink: RETURN TO SENDER - REFUSED.
“These were the birthday cards,” Rebecca explained. “He didn't just throw them away. He officially refused them at the post office so they would come back to my house, making me think you were the one rejecting me.”
She flipped to the next section of the folder. Inside was a manila envelope labeled MOM’S ESTATE.
“When Mom passed away four years ago,” Rebecca said, her voice softening, “I had to clean out her attic alone. Do you remember the folder she kept in her desk drawer labeled 'Caroline's Baby'?”
I nodded slowly. During my very first pregnancy, before the darkness fully set in, I had been so excited. I had mailed my mother copies of my first ultrasound, appointment cards, and a handwritten list of names.
“I went through that folder after Mom died,” Rebecca said. “Look at this.”
She handed me an official laboratory printout from my first trimester clinic visit eight years ago.
Highlighted in yellow highlighter near the bottom of the page was a line of text: Fetal Genetic Screening Result: Male. Normal 46,XY karyotype.
May you like
“Luke told me the doctor couldn't see the gender,” I whispered, my heart breaking all over again. “He told me the baby was severely deformed and that my body rejected it because I was too weak.”
“He lied to you from day one, Caroline,” Rebecca said firmly. “He constructed a narrative to break your spirit so you would never feel strong enough to leave him.”
