“She didn’t know Rebecca had named me?”
“No.”
“She didn’t know why?”
“No.”
Mr. Reed paused.
“Rachel was specifically told not to pressure you. She was only supposed to mention that the children existed and let you decide whether you wanted more information.”
I remembered Rachel sitting at my kitchen table.
We have a sibling group that may have to be separated.
Suddenly, that conversation sounded different.
“So she wasn’t randomly telling me about them.”
“No.”
“But she also didn’t know Rebecca was behind it.”
“Correct.”
I stared at the letter.
“Why hide that from me?”
Mr. Reed’s expression softened.
“Because Rebecca was afraid you would feel responsible for fulfilling a dying mother’s wish.”
I looked down.
The next lines said almost exactly that.
My hope must never become Julia’s burden.
If she meets my children, let it be because she chooses to.
For several seconds, no one spoke.
Then Mason asked, “So our mom chose Julia?”
I looked at him.
“No.”
He frowned.
“She hoped,” I said.
I looked around at all 6 of them.
“She opened one door.”
Then I smiled faintly.
“I chose whether to walk through it.”
Dylan leaned back.
“And then you chose us?”
“Yes.”
“Even after the lamp?”
“Against my better judgment.”
Everyone laughed.
Then Mason said quietly, “We chose you too.”
That nearly broke me.
Zoe looked at the envelope.
“Can we read the whole thing?”
“Whenever you want.”
She hesitated.
“Maybe tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is fine.”
The birthday party eventually continued.
The cake was cut.
Someone lost the matches.
Dylan denied stealing frosting despite having frosting on his sleeve.
Life went on.
Later that night, after everyone had gone upstairs, I read Rebecca’s final paragraph again.
If you are reading this, then my children are old enough to understand why I once wrote your name down.
I don’t know whether you ever met them.
I don’t know whether they remained together.
I don’t know whether you became part of their lives.
But if you did, I hope they never felt like replacements for what you lost.
