Robyn
Andrew slowly lowered his newspaper as my mother joined him at the table, and sat lightly at the edge of her seat like she was ready to bolt off it at any moment. Jack dragged a chair around the table so that the three of us sat side by side across from Mom and the professor.
I had no idea where I was supposed to begin. I sucked in a deep breath and licked my lips, trying to find the right words. “Um, a few weeks ago I got a letter in the mail addressed to Dad.” I said slowly.
As I expected, my mother’s face paled, and her fingers began to tremble. “And you opened it?” Her voice was accusatory.
“Yes, I opened it.” I admitted frankly. Why shouldn’t I? My father was dead, it wasn’t like I was invading his privacy.
My mother opened her mouth like she was going to chastise m
