Chapter 17
The first year in the new house was the best year of our lives.
We painted the kids’ bedrooms their favorite colors.
Ethan’s was blue with dinosaur murals on the walls.
Sophie’s was purple with a bookshelf that took up an entire wall.
We got a dog.
A golden retriever puppy they named Max.
He was fluffy and dumb and loved everyone.
Ethan started full-time school again.
Made the travel soccer team.
Made new friends who had no idea who Melissa or Mom were.
Who liked him for him.
For his dinosaur collection.
For his math skills.
For the way he always shared his snacks.
Sophie made the honor roll every quarter.
Continued on the debate team.
Won first place in the regional competition for a speech about protecting vulnerable children.
I cried when she gave it.
I went back to school too.
Got my degree in social work.
I wanted to help other kids like Ethan.
Other families going through what we’d gone through.
Other people who’d been hurt by the people who were supposed to love them most.
Life was good.
Really good.
And then, on the one-year anniversary of the verdict, I got a letter.
No return address.
Postmarked from the state prison where Melissa was serving her sentence.
I almost didn’t open it.
The restraining order was permanent.
She wasn’t supposed to contact me at all.
One letter could add six months to her sentence.
But something made me open it.
Her handwriting was still the same.
Loopy.
Perfect.
Just like the speech she’d written.
*Dear Sister,*
*I’ve been in here for a year now. Four years total feels like forever when you’re counting the days. I’ve had a lot of time to think. About what I did. About why I did it. About you. About Ethan.*
*I was jealous of you. My whole life. You were always the smart one. The pretty one. The one Mom pretended to love more (even though we both know she never loved either of us, not really). You got the good grades. You got the cute boyfriends. You got the kids. The happy little family. I had none of that. I thought if I could just make you feel as small as I felt all the time, I’d finally be happy. I thought if I could take what was yours, I’d have something of my own.*
*I was wrong. So, so wrong. Hurting you didn’t make me feel better. It just made me empty. And hurting Ethan? That was the worst thing I’ve ever done. Worse than anything. He was just a kid. A good kid. Who loved me. And I threw that love away because I was selfish and angry and broken.*
*I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t deserve it. I just wanted you to know—I know what I did. I know I destroyed our family. I know I hurt a little boy who never did anything to me. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it, even if I never can.*
*Don’t write back. Don’t tell the kids about this letter. They don’t need to know I exist. Just… let them be happy. They deserve that. You deserve that.*
*Melissa*
I read it three times.
Then I tore it up.
Threw the pieces in the fireplace.
Watched them burn.
I didn’t feel anything.
No anger.
No sadness.
No pity.
Just nothing.
She was right about one thing.
She didn’t deserve forgiveness.
And she was never gonna get it.
Not from me.
Not from Ethan.
Not ever.
She’d had her chance to be a good sister.
A good aunt.
She’d chosen cruelty instead.
And now she had to live with the consequences.
Just like the judge had said.
I never told the kids about the letter.
The lawyer filed a complaint with the prison.
Melissa got 90 days in the hole for violating the restraining order.
Good.
Maybe that would teach her to follow the rules.
Or maybe not.
I didn’t care anymore.
May you like
She was no longer part of my story.
None of them were.
