My Stepfather Raised Five Children Who Weren’t His — After the Funeral, We Each Received a Letter Never Intended for the Others to Read

“You were eighteen and hurting,” I replied.

“I still left.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Do you think he’ll forgive me?”

“Yes,” I answered. “I think he already has.”

Michael walked in carrying mugs.

“Please. Thomas would’ve forgiven a bank robbery if you looked sorry enough.”

That earned a small laugh.