“You offered him money to disappear from my life!”
She began sobbing harder.
But I didn’t comfort her.
Not this time.
Then something occurred to me.
“Wait. What photograph were you talking about?”
Ethan slowly stood.
“There’s something else I haven’t told you.”
My mother answered before he could continue.
“It’s the old house, Olivia.”
I froze.
“What?”
“The photograph Ethan sent me. It’s our house.”
I turned toward my husband.
He reached into his pocket.
When he opened his hand, a small silver key rested on his palm.
A faded blue ribbon was tied around it.
I stared at the key.
“Ethan?”
He looked nervous again.
“I bought it eighteen months ago.”
“Bought what?”
He took my hand and placed the key in my palm.
**“Your childhood home.”**
I stopped breathing for a moment.
“The house we lost?”
He nodded.
“The owners were preparing to move. I contacted them, made an offer, and purchased it.”
