Chapter 18 - THE WEDDING ALBUM
On Sophie's fifteenth birthday, she asked to see the photographs from the wedding where everything had fallen apart.
I hesitated.
“Why?”
“Because it is part of our family history.”
I brought out the album.
The photographs showed champagne.
Flowers.
Smiles.
Then the image of me running upstairs.
Claire in white.
Sophie on the floor.
The jewelry box.
Sophie studied each picture.
“Mommy's box,” she said.
“Yes.”
“You saved me with it.”
“No.”
She looked up.
“Your mother saved us with the truth.”
Sophie nodded.
Then she turned the page.
There was one photograph I'd never noticed.
Emily had taken it years earlier.
Me holding baby Sophie.
Emily behind us.
Everyone smiling.
But in the background, half hidden by a doorway, Claire was watching.
Sophie stared at the image.
“She was there.”
“Yes.”
“Mommy knew.”
“Yes.”
“She was protecting me before I even understood.”
I felt tears burn my eyes.
Sophie closed the album.
“I wish I remembered more.”
“You don't have to.”
“But I want to.”
“You have the parts that matter.”
She looked at me.
“Which parts?”
I smiled.
“Your mother's laugh.”
Sophie laughed.
“That doesn't sound like Mommy.”
“It was.”
“What else?”
“She loved thunderstorms.”
“I hate thunderstorms.”
“I know.”
“Then I definitely got that from you.”
We both laughed.
The next morning, Sophie asked me to tell her the story one more time.
Not the murder.
Not the money.
The wedding.
The scream.
The box.
The moment she ran into my arms.
I told her.
When I finished, she said something that stayed with me.
“Daddy, the best part isn't that you found the truth.”
“What is it?”
“That you didn't let the truth make you cruel.”
I looked at the girl in front of me.
May you like
Emily had won.
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