On My 18th Birthday, My Parents Drove Me to the Ai…

“A friend of your grandfather’s,” she said. “A very old friend. He couldn’t come himself.

His legs aren’t what they used to be, and if I’m honest, I don’t think his heart would have tolerated waiting at an airport.”

“My grandfather,” I repeated. “Yes.”

“My mother said—”

I stopped. My mother had said many things by omission.

Rosalie reached out, slowly enough that I could refuse, and touched my hand. “Come with me,” she said. “Walter will explain everything.

Not because you owe him your attention. You don’t owe anyone anything today. But because you deserve to know.”

I should have been suspicious.