Chapter 10: The Truth My Mother Left Behind
I read the sentence again.
Then again.
The words stayed on the page, but my mind refused to accept them.
Felicity was never your real sister.
For a moment, I thought I had misunderstood.
Maybe grief had distorted the ink.
Maybe years of pain had made me see something that wasn’t there.
But the letters didn’t change.
The truth was sitting in my hands.
My mother’s handwriting.
My mother’s words.
I slowly lifted my eyes.
Everyone was looking at me.
Silas.
Olivia.
Ethan.
My father.
And Felicity.
Especially Felicity.
Because she wasn’t surprised.
That was the first thing I noticed.
She wasn’t confused.
She wasn’t shocked.
She looked like someone watching a secret finally escape.
“Felicity,” I whispered.
She didn’t answer.
My father immediately stepped forward.
“Jenna, please.””
I looked at him.
“Please what?””
His face tightened.
“Not here.””
I almost laughed.
Not here.
That was always the answer.
Not now.
Not here.
Not in front of people.
Not when it made him uncomfortable.
But he had forgotten something.
The truth had already spent years hiding.
“I think here is exactly where this needs to happen.””
My voice was calm.
That surprised me.
The old Jenna would have apologized.
Would have worried about embarrassing everyone.
But I was tired.
I was tired of protecting people who never protected me.
Silas looked at Richard.
“You should have told her.””
My father lowered his head.
“I was going to.””
“When?””
Richard didn’t respond.
Silence filled the room.
Olivia stepped closer.
“Jenna.””
I looked at her.
“Your mother wrote those letters because she knew nobody else would tell you.””
I stared down.
My fingers moved to the next page.
The letter continued.
Your father will want to explain. He will say he was protecting you. But you need to know the difference between protection and control.
My chest tightened.
Because my mother had understood.
She had seen it before I did.
Felicity came into our lives when she was five years old. I loved her. I want you to know that. Love is not the problem.
I swallowed.
The next words were harder.
But your father and Diane made decisions that changed the way you saw yourself.
I looked up.
“Diane.””
My stepmother’s face went pale.
For the first time that night, she looked genuinely afraid.
I turned to her.
“You knew?””
She looked away.
That was enough.
“You knew my whole life?””
Diane’s voice was quiet.
“We didn’t want you to feel different.””
I stared at her.
“Different?””
The word sounded almost ridiculous.
“You made me feel unwanted.””
She shook her head.
“No, Jenna.””
“Yes.””
My voice cracked.
“You did.””
The room was silent.
Diane looked down.
“I’m sorry.””
It was the first time she had ever said those words to me.
And somehow, it hurt.
Because I had waited so long to hear them.
My father stepped forward.
“Your mother was afraid.””
I looked at him.
“Of what?””
He sighed.
“Of what would happen after she was gone.””
I waited.
“She knew Felicity was adopted.””
The room became still.
My eyes moved toward Felicity.
“She knew?””
Richard nodded.
“Of course she knew.””
I looked at Felicity.
“You knew too.””
She crossed her arms.
“I was a child.””
“I’m not blaming you for being adopted.””
My voice softened.
“I’m asking why you let everyone make me feel like I was the outsider.””
Her eyes flashed.
“Because you were.””
The answer came too quickly.
Too honestly.
Everyone froze.
Felicity seemed to realize what she had said.
But it was too late.
“You were Mom’s daughter.””
She swallowed.
“And I wasn’t.””
My anger faded slightly.
Because beneath everything was something I had never considered.
Pain.
Real pain.
But pain didn’t excuse cruelty.
“You thought taking things away from me would make you belong?””
Her eyes filled.
“I thought if I was better than you, nobody would leave me.””
The room went quiet.
For one second, I saw the little girl she had been.
The scared child who lost her first family.
But then I remembered the woman who destroyed my invitations.
Who mocked my career.
Who erased my mother’s letters.
“You hurt me because you were afraid.””
She looked away.
“Yes.””
A tear fell.
“But I was afraid too.””
That was the first honest thing she had said all night.
Then Silas spoke.
“There is something else.””
Everyone looked at him.
He reached into the wooden box.
“There is one final letter.””
My heart stopped.
“From my mother?””
He nodded.
“It was addressed differently.””
He handed it to me.
I turned the envelope over.
My hands went cold.
Because it wasn’t addressed to me.
May you like
It said:
*For Felicity.*
