When we finally pulled into our driveway, Dad turned off the engine. For a long moment, he sat there, his face shadowed. Then, in a voice low and heavy, he spoke words that made my stomach drop.
“Emily shouldn’t be married to David. He’s not who he says he is.”
Dad ran a hand through his graying hair. His eyes filled with sorrow.
“I didn’t want to ruin her wedding without proof,” he said. “But two nights ago, I went to David’s apartment to return some tools. He wasn’t home, but his mailbox was overflowing. One letter caught my eye. No return address — just a name: Rebecca Morales. I recognized it instantly.”
I frowned. “Who is she?”
His voice cracked. “My sister. Your aunt. The one who disappeared twenty-five years ago.”
The Letter That Changed Everything
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