I stood at the kitchen window and watched the lights on Evie’s car disappear into the dusk, my heart sinking.
Since the day that she was born, I had feared that this day would come and prayed that it wouldn’t. Now it had.
I had always been honest – first with my daughters, then with my granddaughters – but not today, and knowing that I had kept the whole truth from her made me sick inside.
But what choice did I have? She was so young, so vulnerable. If I told her all there was to know, I feared that it would break her. No, I might not like it, but it was for her own good. Once she’d had time to adjust, to get used to the changes in her life, only then would I begin to tell her the rest. Baby steps. It was the only way.
If there had been any way that I could have taken this burden from her and carried it as my own, I would have done – in a heartbeat.
But fate, destiny – whatever it is that maps the paths of our lives – doesn’t work that way. It chooses who it chooses.
And it had chosen Evie.
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