For a few minutes, I could almost hear her complaining that I had made the tea too strong.
I ran my hand along the edge of the table, like I always did.
Zion had torn through his mother’s home
My fingers brushed something underneath.
Tape.
I bent down.
There was an envelope taped to the underside.
My name was written across it in Valerie’s handwriting.
This was what Zion had been looking for.
He had barely touched the sunroom.
He’d searched every part of her house that he thought mattered.
Valerie had hidden it where she knew I would eventually sit.
Inside was a letter.
I started reading.
Dear Marla,
If you’re reading this, then this letter found the person I intended it for.
There are several things I want stated clearly in my own words.
I started reading.
I learned about Zion’s relationship with Nadia from Zion himself. I suspected something was wrong, confronted him, and he admitted the affair.
I told him he had to tell you himself. He promised me he would.
Later, Nadia came to see me.
She told me they loved each other and asked for my blessing.
This was what Zion had been looking for.
I refused.
That conversation troubled me for reasons beyond the affair. I came away believing there may someday be an attempt to blame you for decisions I have made concerning my estate.
So I want there to be no confusion.
I changed my will by my own choice, while fully aware of what I was doing. No one pressured, persuaded, or coerced me to leave you my home.
I refused.
I made that decision because when I became sick, you treated me like family when you had no obligation to do so. My son, meanwhile, allowed you to care for me while deceiving you.
The house is not payment for your kindness. Kindness isn’t something a person can buy.
But I hope it gives you somewhere peaceful to begin again, should you ever need it.
And if anyone tells you that being kind made you foolish, don’t believe them.
Love, Valerie
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