James.
My firstborn son.
For illustrative purposes only
The next day I returned to the rehab center with the letters.
Martha saw them and began crying before I even spoke.
“Who is Daniel?” I asked.
Her confession came through tears.
Before she met me, she had been engaged to Daniel. He was drafted to Vietnam in early 1966.
Shortly after he left, Martha discovered she was pregnant.
Then Daniel’s plane was shot down.
He was listed missing in action.
Everyone believed he was dead.
Two months later, she met me.
Seven months after our wedding, James was born.
I had always believed he was premature.
He wasn’t.
But the letters told the rest of the story.
Daniel had survived.
He’d spent years as a prisoner of war before finally returning home in 1972.
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