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Until one evening, after tucking Jacob into bed, I found an envelope slipped under my door. Inside was a letter, written in shaky handwriting.
“I know I failed you both. I see him in my dreams every night. I can’t undo what I’ve done, but please — let me try.”
Part of me wanted to tear it apart. Another part — the one that still remembered who he had once been — couldn’t.
Maybe Jacob deserved to know the truth. Maybe I was only punishing us both by keeping Mark away.
The First Meeting
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