Chapter 2 — A Letter From the Dead
Three days later, Emily stood nervously inside Margaret's living room.
Every photograph on the walls told the story of the son they both loved.
Margaret carried down a dusty wooden box from the attic.
"I couldn't open it after the funeral."
Inside were journals, baseball trophies, old birthday cards, and sealed envelopes.
One envelope had only four words written across it.
For Mom.
Margaret's hands shook as she opened it.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
Mom,
If you're reading this, something probably happened before I could introduce you to Emily.
I know you'll have questions.
Please trust her.
She has made me happier than I ever thought possible.
And if our baby has already been born...
Tell them every embarrassing story about me.
Teach them how to fish.
Tell them how Grandpa laughed.
Don't let my child grow up wondering who I was.
Promise me one more thing.
Don't let grief steal the family I spent my whole life trying to build.
Love,
Michael
Neither woman noticed the tears falling until the paper became damp.
Margaret looked at Emily.
"He knew."
Emily nodded.
"I found out I was pregnant two days before he died."
"I wanted to tell him that night."
Instead...
She had received a phone call from the hospital.
Margaret walked across the room.
Without saying a word, she wrapped Emily in her arms.
For the first time since her son's funeral...
She didn't feel like she had lost everything.
She realized something precious still remained.
May you like
Part of Michael was alive.
Sleeping peacefully upstairs in a borrowed crib.
