Every so often Lucas would stare at it quietly, studying the face.
Once Lily asked who it was.
Margaret gave the same answer she had repeated for years.
“That’s your dad,” she said softly. “He works far away. One day he’ll come back.”
Lily never asked again.
Not because she believed it.
But because she had already learned that certain questions made grandmothers cry.
What no one in Pine Hollow knew was that the twins were not the children of a distant relative or neighbor.
They were Margaret’s grandchildren.
They were Daniel’s children.
And he had no idea they existed.
Under Margaret’s bed sat a rusted metal box.
Inside were two birth certificates, an old photograph, and a letter she had written years ago—but never sent.
The entire truth had been sitting there for nine years.
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