My uncle’s face turned pale.
“Oh, God. They’re already back.”
I rushed to the window.
My father’s car had stopped in front of the cabin.
Richard quickly tried to close the suitcase.
I grabbed his hand.
“No! You’re telling me everything right now!”
He sat down in a chair and whispered,
“Your father has spent thirty years believing I betrayed him. But the truth is, I was only trying to carry out his wishes.”
“What wishes?”
He opened the red box.
Inside was a gold ring.
And underneath it lay an old hospital document.
Suddenly, I realized that in the photographs, my mother wasn’t wearing a wedding dress.
She was wearing a white hospital gown.
“Back then, your father was involved in a terrible car accident,” Richard began. “For a long time, the doctors couldn’t say whether he would ever walk again.”
