Leo frowned. “What? What’s it say?”
Patricia’s voice wavered, barely above a whisper. “To my dearest Richard, the only man I have ever truly loved…”
Patricia clutched her forehead. “Oh. My. God.”
They stared at each other in stunned silence, realization sinking in like a stone dropped into deep water.
“My dad had a secret lover,” Patricia whispered, her mind racing.
Leo flipped to the last page, scanning the signature. His eyes widened. “Not just any lover.” He turned the letter toward her, pointing at the name.
“The signature says… ‘Forever yours, George.’”
They both screamed. Back at Richard and Lorraine’s house, Patricia stormed into the dining room, her face flushed with anger.
Without hesitation, she slammed the letters onto the table. The impact made the silverware clatter, breaking the quiet tension in the air.
“Explain. NOW.” Her voice was sharp, unwavering.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for the stack of letters. Richard, who had been reading the newspaper, turned unnaturally pale.
The color drained from his face as he stared at the bundle of aged envelopes, as if they were ghosts from his past come back to haunt him.
“Well?” Patricia’s voice cut through the silence.
“We dug through the wreckage. We found the letters. Are you going to tell us the truth, or do we have to read them aloud?”
She held one of the envelopes between her fingers like a loaded gun, ready to fire.
Richard exhaled slowly and pinched the bridge of his nose, his composure slipping.
“So, you found the letters.”
