“What did you say?” I asked, though I had heard every word.
She swallowed. “The summer after graduation. Before you left. I was pregnant, Daniel.”
I stepped back and braced myself against the dresser. My mind raced through memories I hadn’t touched in decades. That last summer. Her crying when I told her my enlistment date. The way her letters stopped after my second message from boot camp. Her mother telling one of my friends that Caroline had left early for school.
“You told me you met someone else,” I said. “You sent me that letter.”
“I know.”
“You said it was over.”
“I know.”
